LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Shelf, Vl*^^ - 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






ill; I 



JUN 4 1884 



GONE TO TEXAS 



G. T. T. 



GONE TO TEXAS 



LETTERS 



F R O M O U R BOYS 



EDITED BY 



THOMAS HUGHES 




IvI A C M I L L A N AND CO. 
1.884 



\All rights reset'ved.'] 



COPYRIGHT 

BY 

William Hughes, 
Gerard Hughes, 
Henry Hughes. 

1884 






PREFACE. 

"Well! Well!! Well!!!" (crescendo) was the 
long-drawn-out exclamation of a Northern friend 
of ours, when more than four years ago a younger 
brother of mine told him that he was just allowing 
his eldest son, a b.oy of eighteen, to start alone for 
Texas, there to seek his fortune. Our friend's eyes 
opened wider and wider, and filled with pity not 
untouched by scorn, as he added — "and you call 
yourself sane — for an Englishman !" 

My brother could only reply by a look of en- 
quiry and an interrogative " Well ? "" 

" G — T — T," replied our friend, severely empha- 
sising each letter, "stands for Gone to Texas. 
When we want to say shortly that it's all up with 
a fellow, we just say, ' G. T. T.,' just as you'd say 
gone to the devil, or the dogs, over here." 

My brother could only suggest that our friend 
must be thinking of the " Lone Star " State, in the 
palmy times of slavery and filibustering, before 
the Mexican war ; but his kindly soul refused to 
be appeased. 

" And then to let the poor boy go in the steer- 
age," he remonstrated, in a tone of real pity, some- 
what modified when he was assured that the " poor 



VI PREFACE. 

boy" had insisted on taking his own passage and 
going in the steerage to save his money ; being of 
opinion that as he was dehberately going in for 
a hard rough life the sooner he began it the better, 
and that as for the people in the steerage, "they 
didn't bite." 

So my eldest nephew, Willy^, sailed for New 
York in the steerage of a Cunard packet, and on 
landing went to see our friend Mr. A. Hewitt, M.C. 
for that city, as he had been told to do. That 
old and valued friend, struck by his youthful ap- 
pearance, did all in his power to dissuade him ; or 
at any rate to keep him in New York till there 
had been time to hear from his cousin, who had 
been driving cattle in those parts for some years. 
Master Willy was however too resolutely bent 
on making his plunge to brook any delay, and so 
started for the south-west within twenty-four hours. 
He meant to win off his own bat, and was impatient 
to be " facing the music." 

The opening letter of this volume takes up the 
story from the day of his landing in America. It will 
however, I think, make what follows a little clearer, 
as well as possibly more useful, if I add a few 
more words of introduction. 

Two years before, in consequence of very serious 
losses, my brother had broken up his establish- 
ment, and gone with his three boys into a small 
four-roomed house in one of the suburbs of London, 
sending his only daughter (the writer of Part V) 



PREFACE. VU 

to live with her grandmother. In this tiny lodging 
they had to do everything for themselves, in- 
cluding cooking; and the boys, on being told 
frankly that their prospects in life were changed, 
took to their new surroundings cheerfully, and 
with zest. All three were then at public schools ; 
the two elder at Marlborough and Cheltenham, 
the youngest at Westminster, where he was allowed 
to remain, having good hope of a scholarship, which 
he gained soon afterwards. The two elder left 
their schools at once, and, learned professions being 
now out of the question for them, openings of an- 
other kind had to be sought. Willy was taken as 
his junior clerk by Mr. Allender, the Managing 
Director of the Aylesbury Dairy Co., in which 
post he got a thorough grounding and drilling in 
office and administrative work on a large scale, 
and a salary of £$0 a-year to start with. In 
this capacity he worked hard and well ; his salary 
was twice raised in the eighteen months of his 
service. During that time he kept his own counsel ; 
never spent a penny more than he could help ; 
and by the end of it had saved £1^^. Then, 
after consulting his father, he sent in his resigna- 
tion, having obtained leave to carry out the pur- 
pose he had quietly formed, of going out to the 
West to seek his fortune. 

I must own myself to having done what I could 
to dissuade him, as I found that his employer was 
thoroughly satisfied with, and sorry to lose him ; 



Vlll PREFACE. 

and that in another year or so he would be in 
receipt of a salary of £1^0, with good prospects 
of further promotion. However I quite changed 
my mind on finding how resolutely he had been 
looking forward to, and preparing for, a pioneer's 
life. He asked for no assistance, indeed declined 
what I could offer him, having determined to make 
his own small savings sufficient to start upon. He 
had no illusions whatever about the life he had 
chosen ; knew perfectly well that he would have 
to live under harder conditions in many respects 
than a farm-labourer or navvy in England ; and 
that it might be years before these conditions 
would be materially altered. But his mind was 
made up that the game was worth the candle, that 
he could trust himself to go through with his ex- 
periment and to play it fairly out in any case. He 
was confident however that he would have a good 
ranche of his own by the time he was of age. 

How far his self-confidence was justified, and his 
ambition realised, readers will judge for them- 
selves. After taking a short holiday at home to 
see friends and relatives, he sailed in Sept. 1878; 
and Part I of this volume starts with his first letter 
to his father, to whom also all the following letters 
in this part are addressed. They chronicle his 
first doings and impressions. 

By the end of six months he had made a tour 
with a sheep-man, to whom he hired himself, 
across the Rio Grande and in Southern Texas ; had 



PREFACE. IX 

visited a number of ranches, and learnt, in his own 
opinion and words, " everything almost— ploughing 
and harrowing and all the rest of it." Part II tells 
how he made his first investment in land, and im- 
ported some English sheep, in the resolve to teach 
the natives how to do their business better in the 
future. A longer experience, and contact with the 
hard facts of bush and prairie farming, somewhat 
modified theseviews, and taughthim that six months' 
training does not tell for a great deal in the tough 
wrestle with old mother earth. However, he made 
light of the falls she gave him, scarcely indeed 
allowed his friends at home to know that he had 
had a fall at all, and within a year had got a farm 
of his own, a one-roomed shanty with a lean-to 
to live in, and gear enough of one kind or another 
to keep him going and give hope for the future. 

In 1879 his youngest brother Harry, called fami- 
liarly the Doctor from his taste for natural science, 
joined him, throwing up his Westminster scholar- 
ship. This sacrifice involved an entire change of 
plans and prospects, but it again was deliberately 
made, and has not been repented. The long hours 
of work by gaslight in Dean's Yard had begun to 
tell on his eyesight, so he visited Willy on the 
ranche, and there found his eyes rapidly improving. 
This decided him, and he stayed with his brother. 
His eyes have now become quite strong, and the 
use their owner is making of them maybe gathered 
from his letters. 



X PREFACE, 

It was not till some two years later that Gerard, 
familiarly known as Chico, made up his mind to 
cast in his lot with his elder and younger brother. 
For some three years he had been working in the 
studio of Mr. G. Watts, R.A., an old family friend, 
who with rare kindness had taken him as a pupil 
without fee or premium, and devoted much time to 
teaching him. I may not be an impartial judge, 
but his work latterly seemed to me to show con- 
siderable promise^ an opinion shared I believe by 
his kind instructor. So he too went off to Texas, 
as may be read in Part VI of this book, and is now 
in partnership with Willy and the Doctor, and quite 
content with his prospects. 

For some years yet the brothers will have "to put 
in all their time " on the ranche, at shearing and 
herding, clearing and planting ; but neither of them 
has the least idea of giving up his old tastes and 
pursuits in the long run. They have already got 
their books out of the packing-cases, and in odds 
and ends of time, Willy is faithful to his fiddle, 
Chico to his pencil, brushes, and palette, and the 
Doctor to his science and photography. They 
believe that whatever is really essential to the life 
of a cultivated gentleman may be had in due time 
on a Texas farm, and is quite consistent with hard 
labour and rough fare. 

I think I am bound to add that neither of them 
had the least idea until within the last few months 
that their letters home were ever likely to get into 



PREFACE. xi 

print. Indeed, when the proposal was made to 
them, it was not without considerable reluctance 
on their part that their consent was obtained. I 
am glad that it has been, as I believe that this 
little book may be of great use at the present time 
to a number of young Englishmen ; very possibly to 
some of their own old school-fellows. For every 
year it becomes more clear that the openings in 
England for young men in our upper and middle 
classes are quite insufficient. The learned profes- 
sions, the Army and Navy, and the Civil Service 
are besieged by candidates, of whom there are a 
dozen for every vacancy. It is the same with every 
branch of trade and commerce, in which moreover 
the intense competition has brought about a con- 
dition of things which must, I should think, make 
any parent, or otherwise responsible person, pause 
before allowing a boy to take his chance of making 
an honest living in them. 

The pressure of this state of things has been 
driving numbers of our boys to the Colonies and 
America for some years past, and must do so more 
and more in those which are coming. It would be 
well I think if the nation took the matter in hand, 
and treated colonisation scientifically with a view 
to making the most of our splendid material. There 
can be no doubt that, with a very moderate amount 
of care and foresight, such an effort would pay its 
own way almost at once, and its influence on the 
future of England— the new feeling of loyalty to 



Xll PREFACE. 

the old country which would spring up all round 
the world — would be of inestimable value. But in 
the present state of parties and of Parliament it is 
out of the question, and so long as the great work 
is left to drift on, and get itself done as best it can, 
there can be no more useful help to it than to 
furnish trustworthy details of the life which young 
emigrants will have to lead in the first years of 
their experiment. 

And nothing is more diflficult to get than such 
trustworthy details. There is indeed scarcely a 
British colony, or a State of the Union, which has 
not an agency in this country, engaged in distri- 
buting the most glowing accounts of the unrivalled 
riches, above ground and beneath, which are waiting 
to be picked up in their respective territories. And 
I am far from saying that many of the documents 
so circulated are not carefully prepared and their 
contents to a great extent justified by the facts. 
But they are not what is needed. Not one of them 
that ever I saw tells a youngster how he will be 
housed and fed, what wages he may hope to earn, 
what sort of company he will be thrown amongst. 

And this is precisely what the boys' letters will 
do. They may be left to the study of their con- 
temporaries at home, with this warning however 
to young readers. The hopeful and cheery spirit 
which runs through them may to some extent 
divert the attention of such persons from the hard 
facts. These, however, are there plainly enough ; 



PREFACE. Xiii 

and foremost amongst them this one stands out, 
that the Hfe must be one of very severe phy- 
sical labour for years, amidst surroundings which 
will try their mettle to the utmost. To those who 
will accept these surroundings, and face them in 
the same hopeful and cheery spirit, one may say 
without fear, Follow their lead. But if any one 
has reason to doubt himself on this point — if he 
has yearnings after the fleshpots in the midst of 
which he has grown up, and is only induced to 
leave them because he sees no hope at home of 
getting an adequate supply— let him by all means 
stop where he is. The backwoods and prairies are 
no place for him ; and he will only bring discredit 
on himself and his country by adding one more 
to the long roll of young Englishmen who drift 
away to the gambling and drinking saloons, which 
unhappily are to be found in abundance on the 
outskirts of civilisation in every new country under 
the sun. 

T. Hughes. 



CONTENTS. 



PART I. 

PAGE 

Prospecting in Texas and Mexico . . . . i 



PART 11. 
Settling Down 39 

PART III. 
Striking Roots 99 

PART IV. 
Gaining Ground 129 

PART V. 
Madge's Trip to the Ranche 159 

PART VI. 
Willy's, the Doctor's, and Chico's Letters . .171 



Appendix 



223 



PART I. 



THE PIONEER'S LETTERS. 



PROSPECTING IN 



TEXAS AND MEXICO. 



^ " When all the world is young, lads, 

<a And all the trees are green. 

With every goose a swan, lads, 

And every lass a queen, 
Then, Hey for boot and horse ! lads, 

And round the world away, 
Young blood will have its course, lads, 
And every dog his day." 

Chas. Kings ley. 



V 



B 



THE START. 



Sweeny's Hotel, New York, 

Sunday, Sept. 15, 1878. 

Part I. Here I am at last, and have just been pitchine: Sept. 1878' 
ospecting. . •' to 

into bacon and eggs, and stewed tomatoes, and Jan. 1879. 
coffee and iced water. We had a splendid passage; 
they say it was the quickest the " Erin " has had. 
We got into dock at about 2 o'clock, and after the 
saloon passengers had gone off we were barged 
down to Castle Garden. What a farce the over- 
hauling by U. S. Customs is. Whether because it 
is Sunday or not I don't know, but they just 
opened a few things, and put a very large signature 
on in chalk, and hurried you on. I was hardly sick 
at all, and enjoyed the voyage immensely, especially 
the awfully barbaric manner in which we were fed! 
Very few had plates ; they used the table (or board 
with high edges which rejoiced in that name), and 
as for spoons— never heard of them, "Weren't 
hands good enough!" Half the ^steerage were 

B 1 

f 



4 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. Irish, the rest all sorts of nations. Some of the sept. 1878 
lospecting. jj.jgj^ could eat. A quart of soup, a quart and a jan. 1879. 
half of potatoes, about 4 lbs. of meat, and a gallon 
of "plum duff" (or pudding) was what some of 
them seemed to stow. And at tea it was very- 
interesting to watch them. I made a special study 
of one last night. He was the happy possessor of 
a soup plate and large cup, both of which he filled 
to overflowing with tea, and then divided his butter 
into two (they give you about half-a-pound) and put 
one lot in the cup, the other In the plate, and then 
divided his bread between them, and mopped it up 
with a spoon. What a place this is ! Nothing but 
the jingling of car-bells to be heard. I was very 
much struck with the white steamers on the river 
with the working contrivance at top. I could see 
ten all at once, scudding about between New York 
and Jersey City. They guide awfully well. I 
cannot say what I am intending to do as yet. I 
have read those papers you gave me through, and 
fancy sheep-ranching, which they say is most profit- 
able, and which I know a lot of young English 
fellows have gone In for, will be what I shall strike 
at. At all events, whatever it is, I know you can 
trust me to put my best foot foremost, and I will 
write as soon as I have anything to say. I met 



THE START — NEW YORK. 5 

Part I. an old mountain fellow on board. He comes from Sept. 1878 
respecting. U|.^j^^ where, I believe, he gardens fruit, but he was Jan. 1879. 
very close on all subjects. He was very quaint. 
He had been visiting England for a few weeks, 
and so, as he had not seen his brother for twenty- 
three years, "just looked in for half-an-hour,'"' as he 
told me. He explained all about "homesteading" 
and "preempting," &c. He became a citizen of 
the U. S., but is an Englishman by birth. I asked 
him if it were profitable to recant after becoming a 
citizen? So he says, "Well, it's just this-wise ; 
when ye've once become a 'Merican citizen ye'll 
never want to go back again — No, Sir ! " He says 
England is too '' overcrowded for him, Yes, Sir ! ''■' 
He was a dumpy and broad httle man, with a sort 
of wideawake twice as broad as himself, and always 
had his hands in his pockets and his legs apart. 
I expect my next move will be to San Francisco, 
from whence I shall " look round." 



Philadelphia Station, 

Thursday, Sept. 19, 1878. 

T seem to be blest with a very small share of 
difficulties, and if any block does occur it worries 
me to discuss it with any one, as it has always 



6 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. been an intense pleasure to me to do everything Sept.^1878 
Prospecting. ^^^ ^lygelf without help. ... Mr. Hewitt was very Jan. 1879. 
kind. I had quite a fight to get away, and I 
expect he thought I was too young to go by 
myself, and wanted me to go into the country with 
him till he could hear where Jem was, which I 
suppose would have taken a month or so. My 
train starts in twenty-five minutes, so I am off to 
get some tea and my bag checked. 

Central Hotel, San Antonio, 
Sept. 27, 1878. 

Here I am at last, after an awfully hot dusty 

journey from New York. I stayed a little time in 

Philadelphia, and am glad I did so. They are 

building some new public buildings there, which 

are, I suppose, to answer much the same purpose 

as our Law Courts. They are very fine. It is a 

tremendous block with a huge court in the middle, 

and is built of polished Scotch marble ; and going 

into the court quite takes away your breath, it is 

so cool. The Quarantine officers were awfully 

strict all the way; each large town sent out its 

officer to make every one sign and swear they had 

not been in any yellow fever district since July 20th. 



THE RUN DOWN TO TEXAS. 7 

Part I. They turned out three men at Waller, a small Sept. 1878 
lospecting. pj^j^g between Hempstead and Houston. I have Jan. 1879. 
since seen two of them, and they say they let them 
come on after airing their heels on the platform for 
twelve hours. I got a health certificate at St. Louis 
without trouble, but every town after satisfied its 
conscience by making me sign as well ; sometimes 
at night, when I was in the middle of a — well, as 
sound a sleep as you can get with your head and 
body in a lump and your legs somewhere over 
the back of another seat. We passed some very 
amusing "cities," Log City, and Lairetta City. 
They were both in the middle of the prairie, and 
all the city was a small pile of logs thrown on the 
ground, and a sign-board with the name of the 
city on it ; not a house, or an animal, or a human 
being anywhere within ten miles ! I went to 

Mr. L 's yesterday. He knows Jem intimately, 

and has given me the run of his rooms, and I have 

been introduced to a Capt. T , an Englishman 

with a large ranche, and am going to be introduced 
to another man to-morrow. Jem is driving cattle 
north, and is not expected back here for some 
weeks. It has been awfully hot here lately. 
Yesterday it was ninety in a " cool " room. I am in 
excellent health and spirits, and do not feel the 



8 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. heat SO much as I did in Spain. The chief amuse- Sept. 1S78 ^ 
rospec ing. ^^^^^ here seems to be getting up party squabbles Jan. 1S79. 
of every and any kind, and they say in the papers 
"A rare good time may be expected," which 
means there will probably be plenty of row. They 
never seem to think of the business part of the 
concern. . . . One of the things the Yankees do 
well is boot-making ; they do make comfortable 

boots and walking-shoes. Mr. L is going to 

show me a place on the river where I may get a 
swim. He is very jolly and amusing. He says he 
riles old Jem by making fun of the English and 
their way of speaking. Jem is very popular here, 
every one in the town knows him. 

A Brushwood Prairie, 

2 miles from San Antonio, 

Oct. 4, 187S. 

Here I am, camping out with a lot of sheep. 
The brother of the landlord of rny hotel intro- 
duced me to a man named W , who has been 

sheep-raising and selling for ten years, and has 
just made enough to live on comfortably. I think 
we shall work together very well. There are a 
few men in the sheep business who have a name^ 
and sell their sheep at $5 to $15; whereas men 



THE FIRST VIEW OF SHEEP-RAISING. 9 

Part I. like W get only $1 to $2i, and they say, Sept. 1878 

Prospecting. ,, ^-.. . , . , . , to 

• Un, it s just this a way y know, t/iej/ get a name, Jan. 1879. 
and then they get big prices, that's where it is!" 
They casually admit that they (the big men) had 
some good rams from somewhere and improved 
their stock ; but they utterly fail to see the con- 
nection between this and the "name" they "get." 
For next season we are going to have a couple 
of rams out from England and just "fix" that 
missing link. Will you get all possible particulars 
for me as to shipping them in London, freight, &c. ; 
and let me know whether they can be shipped to 
Galveston or Corpus Christi direct (I shall prob- 
ably not be able to get to either place to find 
out for some time, and no one knows anything 
about anything a yard away from him in this 
part of the country). 

We came out here the day before j^esterday. 

W took me to the yard where his " buggy " was. 

It is the oddest old rattletrap I ever saw, and he 
ties a horse and a mule in. They are not nearly 
the same size or colour. All the harness is made 
up of old bits of strap and rope, and I don't think 
any one could " fix " the horses but himself. He 
throws all the harness down by the buggy, and 
if a buckle or anything gets lost it don't scare 



r 



lO GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. him ; he says, " Oh, never mind, guess I'll fix it Sept. 1878 
rospec ing. gQj^g]^Q^g » Well, sir, we started off in this thing Jan. 1879. 
right for this place as the crow flies. This is a 
large prairie overgrown with tall prickly bushes, 

and W , whose ranche is 100 miles away South, 

has brought a few thousand sheep here to sell to 
the people of San Antonio. If that buggy's wheels 
were only a yard or two nearer its body it would 
be better. As it is, they get away amongst the 
bushes ; you suddenly feel a heave, and see the 
two on the left side riding over the top of a bush ; 
you cling on to the rail for life, down comes that 
side, and the other (a plucky pair they are) sees 
if he can't away higher than the first. And then 
you find half the harness has unhitched itself 
from the crooked nails and things. I have now 
been out here two nights, and like it very much. 
We shall start for his ranche as soon as all the 
sheep are sold, which may be a day or a week. 
I am not going to take any wages, but then he 
keeps me and feeds me and teaches me, and I 
leave when I like, and of course the rams (which 
we shall want about next April) will come out at 
his expense. The first night we had a run. The 
moon went down about 11 o'clock, and at 11.30 
the flock had started off on the rampage towards 



SHEEP-MEN. THE TWO CLASSES. li 

Part I. a Mexican flock a mile off, and we were afraid they sept 1873 

Prospecting. i j . • , , , L 

would get mixed, so we had a run to round them jan. 1879. 
up and get them back before they reached the 
others. The next morning the Mexican came over 
to breakfast and lassoed a kid, which thirty seconds 
afterwards was airing six component parts on trees, 
and a seventh in a stew-pot on the fire, and we set 
to. We have black coffee, and onions, and bread, 
which we bake ourselves, and potatoes and bacon. 

W works himself, so I expect to learn lots under 

him. Sheep-men here are, for the most part, of 

two kinds : the men like W , who work, and who 

never make any improvements, and men who 
seldom see their ranche and have herders; and 
they could make improvements if they were only 
to attend to it themselves. The men who make 
it pay are the ones who combine the two kinds — 
so I guess we look like cutting up smart, anyways 
we'll try. It is awfully hot still. I have a bathe 
in a creek just here, and am rigged out a la herd- 
boy. My coat and pants, which are briar and 
water proof, light, and cool, and look like brown silk, 
cost $3i together! and hat, with two-mile brim, |i. 
One ought to come with nothing and get rigged 
out here : they know better what is needed, and 
one gets just the things one wants. I am awfully 



r 



.- i. 



12 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. well. I expect I shall work with W some- Sept. 1878 

Prospecting. ^^^^^^^ under two years; then I'll get across to Jan. 1879. 
England and get a few rams and come back and 
run second to none, or turn toes up. Of course 
I am reckoning that I don't get leaded by any of 
these shot which (they say) occasionally get about 
so thick you can't see the sun. Our camp here 

consists of the buggy and pair aforesaid, W 's 

boy, a bright lad of twelve, three camp water-barrels, 
three stew-pans, which act as ovens, &c., &c., a few 
blankets, and a few odds and ends, viz. a knife and 
fork or two, and tin boxes of salt and sugar. 

P.S. We shall want the rams about the end of 
March, and they will have to come to New York. 
We should like to know freight. I shall write to 
AUender asking prices of rams, and telling him I 
want him to get one of his farmer friends to pick 
us two next Spring. And if you can get us 
freight particulars now, I will get you to start 
them from London for us when we want them. 

Brushwood Prairie, 

Oct. 10, 1878. 

I expect English rams will cost too much for 

W by the time they get here, so I shan't 

bother Allender in the matter until I want mine. 



A STORM ON THE PRAIRIE. 1 3 

Part I. You might get the price of a good one for me, sept. 1878 
Prospecting. ^^^^ j ^^^ ^^^^ ^ j haven't any idea. I jan.'°879. 

suppose though they would come to £2^, or more. 

W 's boy was taken very feverish a day or two 

ago, and I have been taking the flock out. There 
are 1500, and when out feeding they cover half-a- 
mile diameter, and they always go on walking, and 
by the time you get to the head the tail will have 
twiddled round and started. They licked me at 
first, but I can manage them now. We had a 
storm the night before last. It was lightning half 
way round the horizon, and then blew up in 
a few minutes and just let us have it. I fixed 
up under the wagon. The animals started in 
the middle of it, and then it was a case of 
mackintosh and top-boots ! Some of the ewes are 
dropping lambs, and it's fine to see those kids 
trying to get through long grass when they are 
half-an-hour old. They jump, and spike themselves, 
and fall on their noses, and repeat the process until 

they are dog-gone tired, as W would say. I 

think his expression is a corruption of something 
worse. We get up about 5 o'clock and have 
breakfast, then the sheep start at 7 and are out 
till 12, then dinner; then start at 1.30 and in at 
5.30 ; tea at 6, and '= in bed " by 7.30, when W 



r 



14 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. and I talk ; and he tells me about the time they Sept. 1878 

ProsDCCtin"". . . . ^*^ 

''were "fighting and hoorawing and fussing about Jan. 1879. 



"A 



here," meaning the war between North and South. 
We are very good cooks, and our greatest variation 
is in our bread, which we cook in difterent ways. 
It was awfully good this morning — a liquid batter 
of flour and water and yeast and salt, and a few 
eggs, then set some oil boiling in a skillet and pour 
the batter in in doses. It makes a sort of crisp 
souffle cake. You fry about four at the same time 
in a skillet eight inches across, fish them out in 
about two minutes and pour four more in. They 
are light and wholesome. I ate about 300 or 250 
I should say, that's about half a cwt. I am now 
a mile away from camp looking after these sheep, 
and only started this letter to say that I wanted 
you to get me the price of good rams somewhere 
about, as I shan't bother Allender at all in the / 
K matter. 

San Antonio, 

Oct. 24, 1878. 

We have not left here yet you see, but W— — has 
sold his sheep, and we expect to start for his ranche 
to-morrow. I think the open air suits me to a T. 
We slept in a room in town last night, and it 
seemed stuffy after sleeping out on the ground, so 



A SQUARE MEAL. 15 

Part I. we camp out again to-night. The night I took Sept. 1878 
Prospecting. ^^^^ j^^^ letter to post I had a supper, after nine Jan. 1879. 
days bacon and flour and kid, and you bet I let 
in ! They give you at all the " un-napkin " places 
here a grand meal for 25 cents, about six dishes. 
I One never gets through them except under special 

' circumstances, but I got through all mine that 

I night, and two cups of coffee. I had a steak and 

two sorts of vegetables, and two poached eggs and 
I a dish of stew, and another of mutton and some 

stewed prunes, and any amount of bread and 
butter ! I had a fortnight's herding, and have 
mastered that and learnt a good deal about sheep. 
I employed my spare time in tarantulizing taran- 
tula spiders out of their holes, and throwing stones 
at rabbits. I was almost going with the three 
fellows who bought the sheep. They were going 
to Fort Worth, 200 miles, and neither knew how 
to drive properly, so they v^anted me to help them; 
but they wouldn't give me my fee of 5 dollars 
per week besides grub, so I refused. You people 
don't know what coffee is over there. We buy it 
in the green, and roast and grind it ourselves, and 
then boil the powder, which is ground about three 
times as coarsely as we used to grind it, so it all 
settles to the bottom of the pot and doesn't come 



l6 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. off when you pour out the liquid, which is partly Sept. 1878 
lobpecting. i^gj^^^^gg |.]^g Spout, or lip rather, is at the top of the Jan. 1879. 
pot. I think I see my way to starting a good 
thing next spring. I find that the Northern sheep- 
men all come South to buy. The central market 
is San Antonio, and the Southern breeders bring 
their cattle there, and the Northerners (as those 
three we sold to) come there to buy. One of the 
three told me that some of the sheep they had 
just paid I dollar 25 cents for were worth 2 dollars 
50 cents up North ; and next spring I think I shall 
drive North with a few sheep, if I feel capable. 

Please get my cash transferred to L 's here, as 

I feel I can trust myself with some capital by the 
time that is transferred. I am in no hurry though. 

p.S. — We start at sunrise to-morrow, so I shan't 
see Jem till we return with sheep in a few weeks. 
Don't think I want any more than that money of 
mine — I couldn't do with any more. 

Concepcion, Texas, 
Nov. 8, 1878. 

I have had tremendous fun since I wrote to 

you on 24th Oct. W and his boy, and the 

Mexican herder and myself, started next morning 
at sunrise for his ranche, 120 miles South, W 



A JOURNEY IN THE BUSH. 1 7 

Part I. and I leading in two-horse wagon with spare Sept. 1878 

respecting. . • 1 1 1 . , to 

horse tied behind, and the nigger and boy in Jan. 1879. 
buggy and pair with two horses tied behind. It 
was tremendously hot all the way. We did it in 
three days, the last day starting at 1.30 a.m. and 
getting in at 6 p.m. The first day the wagon 
nearly upset into a deep gully as we were going 
down one of the perpendicular creeks, of which 
we crossed thirty or so. Perhaps you know them 
—dry watercourses about twenty feet deep ; you 
go straight down and then straight up. We rushed 

down, W- putting on the break hard and 

throwing the reins into my lap, and the left horse 
almost went down the creek on the left. The 
second day one of the horses behind the bueev 
kicked the other, which one bolted behind a tree, 
and as it was tied somewhere under the buo-o-y 
it shot the hind part up, and out went the boy, 
who was driving, on to the mule's back ; the reins 
dropped, and the horse and mule started off takine 
the buggy over the legs and chest of the boy. (He 

wasn't hurt.) W and I heard the Mexican 

yelling behind, about 300 yards off, and we saw 
the buggy dash up in a cloud of dust, and it 
didn't stop till the pole had applied itself to the 
horse behind the wagon and sent it swinging to 

C 



r 



l8 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. the side. No damage was done. After this the Sept. 1878 

Prospecting. ^ to 

Mexican funked and took to his horse, and I got Jan. 1879. 
into the buggy with the boy to help him. It is 

the rottenest old buggy you ever saw. W 

bought it second-hand and has had it five years, 
and has done the "repairing" himself, so you 
can imagine the result. It is all mendings, espe- 
cially as to the harness ; and coming down we had 
to tie the tires on in several places with strips of 
goat-hide. All the wheels were rattling, and the 
left one was — well, "rolling"; and, as I was just 
beside it, I watched it with great interest as we 
went down the gullies or through ruts a foot deep. 
How it held together I don't know. The worst 
gully was an awful one, nearly perpendicular. 
The horse, although used to gullies, funked it, 
and reared ; so the Mexican went to the head 
of the animals and pulled them. When a few 
yards down it was too much for him, and he 
sprang aside, and down we dashed and up the 
other side safely. I was driving, as the boy, like 
the horse, had funked, and got out at the top. 
For miles and miles we went through burnt and 
burning grass. It doesn't flare, but smoulders ; 
and we passed trees that were still flickering in 
places. One night in a forest we could see it 



WAIFS IN THE BURNT PRAIRIE. 1 9 

Part I. smoking out west of us, and the wind was blowing Sept. 1878 

Prospecting. 1 • 1. , ? , to 

our way, but it didn t reach us. On the second Jan. 1879. 
day, in the evening, we passed a wagon by the 
roadside with two small girls in it, about six 
years old. It had camped there the night before 
and the horses had stampeded, and the father of 
the children had been out since daybreak after 
them, and had not returned. We asked them 
if they were frightened ; " Oh, no," they said. 
"Have you any water?" (they were four miles 
from any.) "No." "Then what will you do for 
it ? " " Starve, I guess," said the eldest ; as much 
as to say, You ought to know that. Their father 
now came up after a fruitless search all day. His 
boots had been burnt up by the sun, and the soles 
were tied on with string. We left them water, 
and promised to send the horses back if we found 

them ; but we didn't see them. W 's house 

is a log hut, with bedroom, and kitchen, and out- 
houses ; one for children, of which there are nine, 
and others for corn, &c. The first night it rained 
hard, and I slept in his room, he and his wife 
in one bed, and I in the other. I wanted to sleep 
on the floor, but, as he remarked, " the floor gets 
covered with water sometimes." The floor, I may 
mention, is the earth, and, instead of being raised, 

C 2 



r 



20 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. is rather lower than outside, from being trodden Sept. 1878 

Prospecting. , - ^ , '•° 

on. We were at his ranche for three days, and Jan. 1879. 
then he and I went on in the wagon to a friend's 
ranche, to sleep there. The ranche used to belong 
to two young Americans, who were murdered by 
their *'pastores" for plunder. Next day the rest 
of the sheep-buying party came up (we are down 
South, buying sheep to drive to San Antonio) in 

an ambulance belonging to Mr. X , one of the 

party. We consist of Mr. X , who was edu- 
cated at Yale, is stout and merry ; Judge Y , 

who sings comic songs or tells comic stories all 
day, and prefers dabbling in sheep to lawyering ; 

Z , a young Northerner, who is in Texas for 

pleasure, is pretty rich, I fancy, and has come 

out with them for a lark ; and W , myself, 

and the Mexican. We started at once for X 's 

ranche, the luggage and four of us in the am- 
bulance, and two on horseback ; stayed there for 
a day or two, and then started on down here. 
They are very great on card-playing and whiskey- 
drinking, and play poker at every stoppage, and 
at night, by the light of the moon, till 11 o'clock 
or so. They don't gamble, but bet imaginary 
sums, and owe each other thousands of dollars. 
We were two and a half days coming down here, 



A BUSINESS (and PLEASURE) TRIP IN MEXICO. 21 
Part I. and stopped at a small town named Collins for Sept. 1878 

rospecting. g|.Qj.gg^ ^^^^ j^^j '^^ lamp-Oil, flour and potatoes, Jan. 1879. 

bacon, whiskey, &c. Coming along the oil got 
into the flour and potatoes, and the whiskey got 
into " the crowd." It is not lawful to sell whiskey 
down here, but it is bottled under the name of 
" Stomach bitters," and sold in a square glass bottle 
with directions, about "two table spoonfuls, &c." 
After every drink they get very talkative, and, 
as each is a perfect character without it, it is in- 
tensely interesting to listen to them. The nigger 
pretends not to like it, but says a little makes 
him '' mucho bravo " ; so it is as well that he takes 
some, as it is a pretty rough country down here, 
and we all carry arms (about twelve in number) 
loaded, and by our sides at night. We are now 
camping just outside Concepcion, a small Mexican 

town. W and the nigger are out after some 

goats which the former lent a man on shares three 
years ago, and has not taken the trouble to look 
after (no wonder he doesn't get rich !) ; and the 
other three buying sheep in the wagon ; and I am 
looking after camp, with the things scattered round 
and my coat hanging beside me with a loaded 
revolver sticking out of the pocket — one feels safer 
with one. though it is very seldom required — and 



r 



22 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. for half-an-liour before I began writing I had been Sept. 1878 
preparing a larded kidney for my dinner, and it Jan. 1879. 
is now roasting over some wood coals and tied 
up in grass and looks awfully good. Just after 

passing Collins, Z , who was riding (and had 

had some whiskey), let his six-shooter off by 
mistake, and it kicked into his face and cut him. 
He comes in for the wars whether tight or sober. 
Coming from San Antonio in the ambulance, with 

X and the judge, they stuck in a bog (W • 

and I nearly stuck in the same place when we 

came down), and Z being, well, the soberest 

of the party, had to get out, and, up to his waist 
in mud, unhitch the horses and hitch them to the 
back of the wagon, and so pull it out again. 

9th Nov. Just off in ambulance for a drive over 
country after sheep. 

Concepcion, 
Nov. 19, 1S78. 

Since I wrote to you we have been a week's 
trip after sheep. We camped seventeen miles from 
here or more, near a very large waterhole (they are 
very scarce here), and we were a mile or two from 
any ranche. That was our camp, and from there 
we scouted for sheep. We had lots of shooting at 
antelope and deer, and wild turkeys, geese, cranes, 



SPORT BY THE WAY. 23 

Part I. ducks, partridges, &c. We have not bagged any sept. 1878 
lospet ^. ^gj^jgQj^ y^^^ Though I have only had five shots, jan. 1879. 
the first I got a bird, and the second and third 
rabbits ; so I thought I was infallible I suppose, as 
1 shot the last two carelessly and missed. They 
were both at a lot of curlews sitting by a pond. 
From our camp by the waterhole, we all, except 
the Mexican, whom we left in camp, went after 
sheep, two of us riding and the other three in the 
ambulance. We didn't take any food, or cooking 
tricks as they call them, as one expects to be fed 
gratis at the few ranches one graces with one's 
presence, even though there are five mouths to 

• feed. The first of the two days we had dinner at 

a very clean little ranche off cafe an lait and batter 
cakes. That night we got to a wealthy stock- 
owner, whose " hall of reception " was a round 
space cut out of a thicket. We didn't do any 
business with him, but nevertheless, as usual, ate 
about a whole goat of his, and made free with his 
corn-meal. Next morning we had a light break- 
fast of coffee and corn-bread, and started for camp, 
getting a little corn-bread and coffee in the middle 
of the day at a ranche (the ranches are sometimes 
five or six miles apart or more), and when we got 
back that evening we were ravenous, and had a 



r 



24 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. large supper off goat and bread and molasses and Sept. 1878 
rospec ing. ^^^^^ ^^^ coffee — this is our larder in full ; and Jan. 1879. 
then we started back here next day, stopping that 
night at a large horse ranche, where we invaded 
the house, and slept in one of the rooms, and 
monopolised a detached kitchen. We saw Mexi- 
cans breaking in horses, and also cutting off the 
manes and tails of some wild ones. They drive 
them into a corral, and then lasso them, and tie 
their legs together after tripping them. The old 
stud horse gave them some trouble, but they at 
last lassoed his front legs as he was galloping 
round, which sent him on to his nose, and then of 
course they were on to him with ropes. When he 
got up he just was mad to find he was cropped. 
We are now on our old camp ground here, and 
haven^t got any sheep yet. It is splendid weather, 
and as I write (on the inside of the back of the 
ambulance) there is not a cloud to be seen, and 
it is as hot as a koi summer day over there ; and it 
is cooler now than it was when we left, as there 
have been two nights of rain which has filled the 
creeks which were dry before. I fancy these 
fellows don't mean much business, but I am learn- 
ing a lot about stock and the country, and am 
having a very jolly time. I have no work to do 



THE BOY AS BAKER. 25 

Part I. except what all the others do, as the Mexican Sept. 1878 

Prospecting. , to 

attends to the horses, cxc, and the grub is very Jan. 1879. 
good for camp, and there's lots of it. Oh, yes ! by 
the bye, my special work is baker's. I can bake 
better than any of the others, and make better 
bread. You bet we have good flour bread — little 
rolls about as big as a hen's egg, and we have 
them hot for breakfast and cold the rest of the 
( day. I have just hit the dodge for making them 

mi /ait, or whatever it is. The man who keeps 
the store here had confidence enough to sell them 
a bottle of gin this morning, and a quarter of an 
hour after it appeared in camp those four and the 
Mexican had emptied the bottle. At this moment 
the only one who is overcome is the Judge, and 
he is asleep by the wagon ; the other three are 
playing poker as usual. I am picking up Mexican 
fast ; every one as far south as this speaks it, and 
there are very few Americans here ; I don't think 

we have come across one since we left W 's 

ranche, and only two Mexicans who have been 
able to talk English ; but the three bosses of our 
party all speak Mexican. 

It is extraordinary the difference between Eng- 
lish and the people down here in small expenses. 
Our Mexican servant invites any of his friends to 



r 



26 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. eat with him at his master's expense, and no one Sept. 1878 

Prospectin"". . to 

says anything, and when we were camping near the Jan. 1879. 
waterhole, two Mexican herders came twice every 
day nearly for food, and just took what they 
wanted without being invited. But it is the regular 
thing out here to eat at any one else's expense, and 
consider it a piece of condescension. 

I have gained about 20 lbs. in weight, I believe, 
since I left England, and am in excellent health. 

The ranches, or farms, down here are several 
miles apart, some of the owners owning as much 
as 180,000 acres; this is the case with one or two, 
the rest a paltry 500 or upwards ! Some ranches 
own, besides other stock; 2000 or more horses, which 
roam about the country in herds. 

The people about here live very simply; the 
richest have only wooden houses, and eat goat or 
mutton (very seldom beef), and although plenty of 
game can be had for the shooting, they very 
seldom take the trouble to kill it. There are 
quantities of wild turkey in the woods ; they run 
about in flocks, and are so common that if a man 
shoots one he generally cooks the breast and 
throws away the rest. 



ACROSS THE RIO GRANDE. 27 

Laredo, Rio Grande, 
Dec. 2, 1878. 

The day after I last wrote we bought 600 sheep, Sept. 1878 

. to 

driving them into a large pen, and then catching Jan. 1879. 

each one and looking at his teeth, and branding 

him with a square tar mark, and chopping his 

tail off, and putting him through the gap. I 

was catching and bringing to the gap nearly all 

the time, and it is. tremendous exercise, as some 

of the sheep are pretty strong. Next day we met 

a buyer, who wanted sheep in a hurry, and so took 

ours and paid us what we gave (or rather what 

X , W , and Y gave), and Sioo 

besides, which was a very good day's work. We 

are now on the American side of Laredo, which 

is on both sides of the river, and are going to 

start into Mexico to-day or to-morrow, as sheep 

are very much cheaper there ; and not only that, 

Mexican money is at a discount of i57o> so that 

a Mexican dollar, which is at par in Mexico, can 

be bought in America for 85 cents. We brought 

a box full (two or three thousand I expect) of 

Mexican dollars with us safely. We passed some 

splendid scenery occasionally. Most of the way 

is quite flat, but two days we came upon hills 



28 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. covered with all sorts of thorny bushes, cacti, etc. Sept. 1878 

ProspcctiiT^. rT-^ . ^^ 

The scenery for the last five or six miles or more Jan. 1879. 
was lovely. A very hard north wind was blowing, 
and as we passed the mouths of Canyons we nearly 
got blown over, and had to put up the ambulance 
cover. This is a very pretty little town ; it has 
sprung up within the last thirty years or so ; there 
are the inevitable Mexican plazas, and a very well 
built church, and the houses are well built and paint- 
ed in all sorts of brilliant designs outside — I am 
speaking of this side of the river, as I haven't 
been across yet ; the other side seems to be as 
large. The river here is as broad as the Thames 
at London Bridge, but shallow ; no navigation 
comes up as far as this, and the town is built 
on a sandy kind of soil and about 20 feet higher 
than the river, which is gradually working the 
sand away. We are having beautiful weather, 
very warm ; I don't think there is a cloud 
on the sky at this moment. Yesterday we 
washed in the Rio in the morning, and in the 
afternoon I went for a stroll along the shore and 
saw evening parade at the barracks ; and when 
returning saw a blaze in town. It was a large 
store on fire, and when I got there the church 
bells were being hammered, and Mexicans were 



A FIRE IN A MEXICAN TOWN. 2,^ 

Part I. rushIng along the balcony of the first floor getting Sept. 1878 
rospec ing. ^^^ furniture out. There is no fire-engine in the Jan. 1879. 
place, and \ve pulled buckets of water up by- 
ropes on to the balcony at the back, and handed 
them up through a trap-door on to the roof, and 
got the fire out in about an hour after it began. 
The only serious damage done to the things was 
from the water, and crazy Mexicans who pulled 
down any woodwork they could ; and after the fire 
was out there was still one crazy loon trying 
vainly to hack the wooden tiles off the roof 
with an axe. We have been living like fighting- 
cocks, on beef and onions, and pickles, and oranges, 
besides the usual bacon and molasses, &c., and 
have hired a two-room house with a yard to 
I it. We inhabit the former, and the five horses 

the latter. The atmosphere is so clear here in 
the country that, when six miles from Concepcion, 
we could hear the drum beating between the gusts 
of wind (which was blowing towards the town). 
Of course letters are not being forwarded to me 
from San Antonia, so do not expect to get answers 
to any that may be there, till I strike it again. 



r 



30 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Laredo, Texas, 
Dec. 15, 1878. 

Part I. Since I wrote last we have been ninety miles Sept. 1878 
respecting. .^^^ Mexico and back. We had a good deal of Jan. 1879. 
trouble getting a start, as none of the officials on 
the Mexican side seem to have any definite ideas 
with regard to the laws, and each one fingers 
around for a bribe instead of slapping out the law. 
We got across the river, wagon and horses, &c., on 
a barge, and, after making satisfactory arrange- 
ments with the officials in town, started ; on the 
outside we were pulled up by another custom-house 
and taken back ; " satisfactory arrangements " had 
to be gone through again, and a pass given us. 
We then rolled out, and on the third day reached 
Lampazos, which is a small town amongst moun- 
tains ; the latter were plainly visible from the Rio 
Grande. Going down we passed only about three 
ranches, and crossed a very pretty river (the 
Salado). All the Mexicans were very pleasant 
and hospitable. Going down we slept near a ranch 
each night. When we got into Lampazos we 
waited in the main plaza while the boss looked 
out for a house. The annual examination was just 
taking place ; a seedy band was playing outside 
the schoolroom door, and some 150 or 200 



A MEXICAN TOWN. 31 

Part I. girls marched In, In white dresses and red sashes, sept. 1878 
rospecting. ^^^ ^j^^^ ^ ^^^ anxlous parents marched in, as If jan. 1879. 

they were taking each other down to dinner, and 
all dressed up to the nines. We got a very jolly 
house, or stone-room, for storing wool or fodder ; 
it was empty though, and outside was a yard with 
a small stream running through It : the river is 
tapped, and runs through nearly every yard In town. 
That night I had a bathe In it, while the others 
went with a party of cattle-men to see a per- 
formance by a strolling company of actors. We 
stopped in Lampazos about a week, and I think 
the other four cattle-men and ourselves were the 
only whites In town. One of the others was an 
exact specimen of a Mark Twain hero ; he had 
mined of course, and was a lump of wit and good 
humour. Some one asked him how much he had 
paid to go Into the theatre. "Pay!" said he, 
" paid nothing. Our pistols were locked up, but 
I got hold of one and strapped It over my behind, 
and me and Johnson just walked through." The 
Mexicans are very funky of Americans If they 
have a pistol with them, and it's very seldom they 
haven't, and it was a very small piece of French 
leave. The other four had been out after cattle 
(half the time or more on the spree) for six months. 



r 



33 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. and they were getting irregular about their meals, Sept. 1878 

Prospecting. to 

got anything to eat anywhere, and they used to Jan. 1879. 
take us by storm and eat like giants. It is part 
of the fun to go and eat at another ranche's ex- 
pense, and ask why the there isn't a better 

lay out in such a bully-looking crowd ? 

I had a tremendous walk one day. Lampazos 
is between two mountains. The one on the right 
looks as if it is about three miles, or not so much, 
away; the other one is nearer; so I thought I'd 
walk to the furthest one. I started at 9 o'clock 
a.m. to walk, and walked across the prairie, and now 
and then the foot of the mountain would seem a 
mile off; but when I got there I found myself on 
the top of a small hill, with another mile of prairie, 
and so on ; but I didn't stop, as I was going 
through cacti of all kinds, and various plants I had 
never seen before. At last, about 3 o'clock in the 
afternoon, I reached the foot of the mountain and 
went half-way up. I had a splendid view of an 
endless stretch of prairie, and away in the horizon 
one could see a stretch of about ten miles of prairie 
fire, which smoulders and flares along (this one 
burned for days) ; but the sun was rapidly going 
down, and I thought the sooner I got back the 
better, especially as I had to cross a river a mile 



A WALK IN MEXICO. 33 

Part I. or two from town. So I started back as quickly Sept. 1878 
respecting. ^^ j could. The last half mile was so thick with Jan. ^"379. 
cactus I could hardly get along, and when I was 
at last started pretty well the sun was disappearing. 
Luckily it w^as a full moon that night, or I should 
have had to bunk down and wait till sunrise ; as it 
was I had no end of a bother and fun. I struck 
the river about a mile higher than where I had 
crossed it, and got mixed up in a jungle kind of 
a place, and could hardly get through ; at last I 
got a place in the river, where I forded it ; it was 
only about a foot deep there, and got into some 
corn-fields. At last I struck the road, and got 
back at 8 P.M., after eleven hours' walking. I 
wasn't tired, and only a little stiff next day. 
When I asked afterwards how far it was to the 
place, I was told fifteen miles ! It is tremendously 
deceiving, as the atmosphere is so clear you could 
almost see a flea crawl over there. It nearly crazed 
two Mexicans when I told them I had been there, 
as they never walk more than half-a-mile at a 
stretch, and seldom that. 

We found out that some large men had been 
around getting sheep to stock a ranche, and the 
price had gone up to as much as in Texas ; and so 

we couldn't buy, as there would be two duties to 

D 



r 



34 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. pay, one out of the country, and another across the Sept. 1878 
respecting. -^^.^ Grande — so we returned. We didn't strike Jan. 1879. 
ranches either of the nights coming back, and so 
camped miles away from any one. Going down we 
had camped near a ranche each night for safety's 
sake. We are now back in Laredo, and, I think, 
are going down the bank of the Rio Grande, or 
somewhere. I am quickly picking up Mexican. 
I go into stores and spout out for something, or 
jabber to an old woman who lives in a house 
looking on to the same yard that our horses are in. 
Yesterday it was cold, but to-day it is hot again, 
and hardly a cloud anywhere. I am awfully well, 
but getting fat I'm afraid, in spite of riding eight 
hours a day. I fancy I shall get on swimmingly 
among stock, as I am learning about all the dif- 
ferent kinds. 

I shall know pretty well about all south-western 
Texas by the time we finish this trip. All the 
cattle-men one comes across are the very essence 
of good-humour and open-handedness ; the great 
failing with them is that they can't keep out of 
the bar-rooms, and this is the reason why one 
hears such an account of the dangers about here. 
If they went about their business in a sober 
way, and didn't get into rows in gambling-hells 



MEXICAN EARTHENWARE. 35 

and bar-rooms, they wouldn't be always getting Sept. 1878 
killed. J^"- ^^79- 

The Mexicans have a very good kind of earthen- 
ware in which they cook almost entirely. It is red 
and thin but tough, and will stand any heat ; but 
the handle, although the pot is on the fire, remains 
cold. They are used for coffee and frejoles (the 
beans they eat so much of), and a pot to hold three 
pints costs 12^ cents. They are the best things 
for cooking in I ever saw, and are made in all 
shapes and sizes. 

i6th. Just off to Rio Grande City. 

Guinagato Ranche, 
20 miles from anywhere, Texas, 

Jan. 2, 1879. 

A happy New Year to you all. 

Since I wrote, we have been rolling about the 
country between Laredo and Rio Grande City, 
and no post-office within 20 miles, the nearest 
being at Roma (this side of Rio Grande). We 
were a few days at Carrizo, and are now between 
there and Roma, and 15 miles inland from the 
river (Grande). We have got three lots of sheep, 
about 1000, and want 2000 or so more, which 
I expect we shall soon get. When at Carrizo, 

D 2 



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3^ GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. W , and the Judge, and I crossed the river Sept. 1873 

Prospecting. ^^^'^^ ^^^ Went down to Guerrero, which Is a Jan. 1879. 
picturesque little town on a very beautiful river, 
the Salado. The only other American in town 
was the American Consul, and so we were objects 
of great interest and curiosity. We put up at 
a small cafe, and the first night when we entered 
the small room (which opens on to the plaza) 
we found the bench opposite the table full of 
expectant Mexicans, sitting like dolls, evidently 
specially invited by our host to see the "curiosi- 
ties.'"' When we left Laredo they had small-pox 
in town^ and were "packing around dead Mexi- 
cans considerable," as a cattle-driver informed 
me ; but that is the only unhealthy place we 
have passed. We have been some days now at 
this ranche, which is like all the others, — a lot of 
small log houses surrounded by a fence, and about 
five or six large families, all related in some way, 
the men of which saunter about doing nothing 
more than shooting a deer occasionally. This 
is almost the only meat they eat, as they seldom 
kill a sheep, at least on this ranche. They have 
no capital except a lot of land and some cattle 
which they occasionally sell. They seldom buy 
anything but coffee and tobacco, and their cash 



CHRISTMAS DAY ON THE RIO GRANDE. 2>1 
Part I. for this IS what they receive from passers-by for Sept. 1878 

Prospecting. ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^.^ ^^^^^j^ jj^^ j,^^ ^g^^ 

only work I have seen done since we have been 
here was by a party of six, one of whom was 
chiselling on a wooden plough and the other five 
were looking on ! We shan't strike a post-office 
for some days^ so to-morrow I intend riding to 
Roma to post this^ In case you should be getting 
at all anxious from my not writing. By the by, 
I hope you had a merrier Christmas than we 
had. It was most amusing. We had an awful 
day, and were out of provisions, and corn, and 
everything, and nearly got frozen. I will give 
you a list of that day's proceedings: 5 a.m., 
got up from under wagon and found icicles all 
about. It was raining, everything was wet, sheep 
had stampeded and were at last found in three 
different places some miles off, and brought back 

by three of the others nearly at night. X 

and I started In the middle of the day on horse- 
back for the nearest ranche to get corn for the 
horses. It was awful cold and raining, and we 
thought we had lost our way, but at last we 
heard the roosters crowing and got to the ranche, 
where we thawed and had coffee and " muscal," 
or brandy made from cactus. Then we started 



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38 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part I. back and dried the blankets and things as well Sept. 1878 

Prospcctin*^ y-* ^^ 

"^ as possible in a rain, before a nre enough to roast Jan. 1879. 
an ox. We had killed a wild pig, and had in- 
tended to have boar's head for Christmas dinner 
(only, as some one would remark, it was a sow), 
but unfortunately a dog ran off with the head. 
That day was the worst we have had, and no 
one is a bit the worse for it. It is now warm 
again, though it rains pretty often ; but we got 
some more sheeting and have a tent fixed from 
the wagon, and so keep everything dry. 

Jan. 3, 1879. 

p. S. — I hope my Christmas Day description 
don't frighten you ; it exaggerates itself on paper, 
and taking all in all, we are having bully weather, 
and are as healthy and jolly as pot-boys. I can't 
ride to Roma to-day, after all, so this must wait 
a day or two, much as I wish to get it off. 



PART II. 

WILLY'S AND COUSIN TIM'S 
LETTERS. 



SETTLING DOWN. 



r 



i 



INTRODUCTORY. 



Part II. WHEN we received Willy's letters from San Antonio we Jan. 1879 
Settling, had many consultations, and made many enquiries, which ^i^y^^Q^^^ 
resulted in our agreeing to send him out two Oxfordshire 
Down rams and four ewes. These were ready to be 
shipped by December, and by that time a Cousin, a year 
older than Willy, and a chum of his, who had been three 
years in a city office, had determined to go to Texas too, 
and volunteered to take care of them as far as San Antonio. 
As will be seen, he got them there just in time to meet 
Willy (whose letters from home had all been accumulating 

at Mr. L 's office) on his return to San Antonio from his 

trip into Mexico. — W. H. 



From Cousin Tim. 

Smith and McNeill's Hotel, 
Washington St.,N.Y., 

Thursday afternoon, Jan. 16, 1879. 

I'm afraid you'll think I've been a long time 
before writing; but I have been waiting till I 
could report on the sheep. The " England " only 



42 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. arrived yesterday, owing to heavy weather, and the jan. 1879 
*' smashing of the steering apparatus. I went down May, 1879. 
to the dock where she's lying this morning, and 
saw the sheep : they are real beauties, and are in 
splendid health ; indeed they ought to be, for they 
finished the last morsel of their grub this morning. 

Mr. P has had them taken to some stables 

where they will be well looked after, and will have 
them put on board my steamer (the "Rio Grande") 
by his own carman on Saturday. I find the run 
to Galveston takes about ten days, so I will provide 
about as much forage as they had before (I have 
got Mr. Howard's letter giving the quantities). I 
had a glorious run in the " City of Brussels," eleven 
days from Queenstown, terribly rough weather 
part of the time, but once I got over the first feel- 
ings of qualmishness I enjoyed myself thoroughly, 
and my appetite was proverbial. There was a very 
rum lot on board, natives of all countries, but a 
great many very decent fellows. We divided into 
messes after we had been on board a bit ; ours was 
the most select of the lot. It was composed of a 
'Frisco artist, two diggers, and a Yankee bo'sun 
(Jack Slack by name), and a widdy, one of the 
steerage belles, and your humble servant. Some- 
times after a successful day's foraging in the cook's 



A VOYAGE IN THE STEERAGE. 43 

Part II. galley, we'd invite outsiders to supper as a great Jan. 1879 
"'' honor, but we were most particular as to their ante- May, 1879. 
cedents. 

Foraging was one of the chief businesses of 
the day : after every cabin meal you'd be sure to 
see a dozen or so loafers hanging round the cook's 
galley offering to do any small job, such as peeling 
potatoes, or washing dishes — anything in fact that 
came first ; and if it wasn't overdone, two square 
meals a day might easily be raised. There was 
one woman who excited all our indignation by the 
barefaced way she was always beating up our 
preserves. Her plan was to pretend she was al- 
ways sick, and could only eat a little of something- 
delicate. One morning she was seen to eat two 
rolls, a basin of porridge, and a lot of ham and 
eggs for breakfast, and at dinner time I heard her 
tell the chief stev/ard she'd hardly tasted a morsel 
for days, and did he think he could get her some- 
thing extra ? I could stand it no longer ; up I 
jumped, and said, "Well, ma'am, if you call what 
you had for breakfast fasting for days, how much 
do you get through when you do have a real square 
meal ? ^' She hated me ever after, and took every 
opportunity of alluding to her well-behaved children 
before me ; but I was amply revenged, for all eyes 



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44 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. were on her at meals, and if an unusually large Jan. 1879 
loaf came on the table, it was always passed down May, 1879. 
to the " delicate Lady." We had plenty of exer- 
cise, for the second officer used to come to the 
steerage every day and ask for volunteers to haul 
on ropes, or holystone the decks, or something of 
the sort ; if it had been to be keel- hauled I think 
we'd have gone, we were so glad of something to 
do. For five days we shipped so many big seas, 
that it wasn't safe to go on deck. One of them 
swept me under a small signal gun, and barked my 
shins awfully. We had to have our soup and 
everything out of mess, she rolled about so. I was 
rather uncomfortable at first, because I had no bed, 
but I soon got accustomed to the boards, and slept 
as well, in fact better, than most of the others. 
Some of them were awful restless beggars, and 
would get up at two in the morning and roam 
about all night, talking or playing seven up ; the 
way they were cussed was highly gratifying to the 
disturbed ones. The stewards were the decentest 
fellows I ever met ; they were so popular on board, 
that we gave them three cheers when we left. I 
should never think of going cabin though; steerage 
is far too comfortable and jolly, and we had a deal 
more fun than the cabin passengers ever had aft. 



STEERAGE AMUSEMENTS. 45 

Tart II. Thev used to come and look on when we were Jan. 1879 
'"§:• (lancing, nearly every evening. Our only musical May. 1879. 
instrument was a fiddle, which was played by the 
bar-keeper splendidly. Some of the fellows dressed 
as ladies, and would walk about arm in arm, on 
deck, amidst roars of laughter. There was one 

very amusing man on board, named Andrew S ; 

he was just the shape of a barrel, pointed at each 
end ; he was always going for something for his 
wife, about whose existence we were slightly scep- 
tical ; if there was such a person, her capacity for 
beer was something enormous. It's very cold here, 
and there's a foot of snow on the ground ; traffic^s 
almost entirely stopped, except with sleighs, of 
which there are any quantity. I like New York 
itself very much, and certainly think in time it will 
lick London all to nothing. I suppose you have 
seen their elevated railroads? They are far nicer 
than the Metropolitan Railway, and the carriages 
are better furnished, besides being able to go any- 
where in the City for 5 cents. I will write again 
from Key West, which is the only port we touch 
at. There's such a queer crowd here, Texan 
drovers, and all sorts of men. The fare to San 
Antonio by rail is ^y^, so it's an immense saving 
going by sea. 



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46 GONE TO TEXAS. 



R. M.S. "Rio Grande," 
Off the coast of Florida, 
Jan. 24, 1879. 

Part II. I am just writing a few lines to report on the Jan. 1879 
sheep as I promised ; but whether they'll ever May, 1879. 
reach you or not I'm very uncertain, as I am 
going to entrust them to an old boy on board 
who leaves us at Key West. The sheep are all 
right so far, and seem to me to be in very fair 
condition. They did not take very kindly to the 
forage provided for them in New York, as the 
American hay is so much coarser than the English, 
and they sent no turnips as I told them to do. 
However, they are getting used to it now, and eat 
it pretty well. The weather here is awfully hot 
and sultry, very different to New York ; but the 
ship is very well ventilated^ so I don't feel it much. 
The sheep have been noticed a great deal by 
everybody on board, and several of the cabin 
passengers have asked for Mr. Howard's address, 
as they wanted to get some like them. The 
sailors are very fond of them, but seem to have 
strange ideas what's good for them in the way 
of food. I caught one of them the other day 
feeding them with a copy of the " Tribune," which 



VOYAGE TO GALVESTON WITH SHEEP. 47 
Part II. he said was the best thing possible for them. Jan. 1879 

Settling. . to 

The carpenter spends half his time playing with May. 1879. 
them; but he's under the impression that they 
bite, so he's very careful not to put his hands 
too near. I am writing this in my shirt sleeves, 
and suppose in England you are all shivering in 
the wet. A little boat came off from a lighthouse 
this morning for papers and vegetables ; there was 
only one man in it, and he very nearly upset himself 
standing up to take off his hat to the ladies. The 
skipper 's been fishing for barracoutas all day, but 
I've not seen him catch any yet. We are much 
better fed here than on the '^ City of Brussels " — 
beefsteaks, potatoes, rolls and coffee every morn- 
ing for breakfast, and a very good dinner and tea. 
We get into Key West to-night about 8 o'clock, 
and leave again at 10. I believe there's nothing 
to be seen but cigars, turtles, and sponges. 

Galveston, 
Monday evening, Jan. 27, 1879. 

P.S. Sheep landed to-day, all in good con- 
dition ; are going on by freight-train to-night. 
I accompany them in same van. This is an awful 
rum place. 



r 



4^ gone to texas. 

From Willy. 

Mr. L 's Office, San Antonio, Texas, 

Jan. 30, 1879. 

Part II. Just back from our trip. Two of the bosses Jan. 1879 

"^^' and self left W and the Mexican 160 or so May, 1879. 

miles off, to follow with the 1700 odd sheep, and 
we rolled up in the wagon. I am awful fat and 
jolly. We got in here about 6.30 to-night, and 
after getting a room and some grub, I came round 
to the above's office, just in time to catch him 
before he went to the theatre, so I have got all 
my letters and his office to myself. I have just 
got through my letters and will post this to-night, 
as owing to our not having struck a post-office 
for some weeks, I'm afraid you must have thought 
"a Greaser^ had leaded me," as I see the doctor 
says in one of his letters ; tell him though, it's 
not more than a 5-cent. business in some cases. 
Thanks for all you've done about the sheep. It 
all comes in bully if they are all right. I will be 
after them and Ted early to-morrow, and will 
probably write you then or next day. We 
had a bully time up from Mexico, and latterly 
awfully hot. We rode in the wagon without 

* " Greaser," the Western equivalent for " a Mexican." 



ARRIVAL OF ENGLISH SHEEP. 49 

Part II. coats, and with sleeves tucked up. But more of Jan. 1879 

Settlino". . . . . ^^ 

this in the next as it is now considerably after May, 1879. 

10 o'clock, and, owing to its coming on to drizzle 

at 3 o'clock this morning, we had to turn out and 

get bedding, &c., into the wagon, eat breakfast, 

and roll out ; especially as we had a ^^ mile drive 

to make, and horses knocked up a bit^ or rather 

a good deal. 

P.S. I'm awfully glad Tim has come out. I 
often thought (lately) of writing to him about it, 
only I meant to get a little straight before doing 
so, so that it shouldn't be a case of the blind 
leading the blind ; but I guess we'll make it 
somehow. 

P.S. Seen sheep, apparently in fine condition. 
Just off after Tim and Jem. 

Jem's Hut, A 's Pasture, 

4 miles out of San Antonio, 
Feb. 2, 1879. 

The sheep are very much admired, and are, appar- 
ently, in splendid condition. I do not at present feel 
capable of managing sheep on my own hook, and so 

have, after a long talk with Jem, seen Capt. T , 

who is an Englishman with a ranche out here. He 
has been very kind to me, and has promised to take 
care of them till I want them, which will not 

E 



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50 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. be for eight or ten months I expect, that is till Jan. 1879 

Settlingf. ^^ 

the season comes on in October. Capt. T has ^lay, 1879. 

been very fortunate with his sheep this winter, 
not having lost one. These will be safer with 
him than anyone else. They will be with his 
and receive the same attention therefore, and he 
is to use the rams this season if he wants to. I, 
in the meantime, shall study up the business on 
ranches, &c. I hope, before October, to have 
taken up some land with Tim, and to know 
what Tm up to. Then these sheep, if they live 
(and they will have every chance to), will be ac- 
climatized and will give us a fine beginning. No- 
thing like '^ blowing " in this country ! TJicy are 
like a flock of sheep, if one man damns or praises 
a thing the rest will follow. So you will see 
by the paper ^ I send you that I was determined 
to get people running in the right direction at 
once. They will now be praised higher by each 
person who tells another about them, you bet ! 
Tim and I are living with Jem and his man. 
It is quite a small hut, but very comfortable. 
We had five or six visitors to-day — cattle-men — 
they are the j oiliest fellows possible. We all have 
been sitting in the huts as it has been raining. 

^ A San Antonio journal. See extract, ijifra p. 54. 



AN EMIGRANT AGENT. 5l 

Part II. One fellow tried to ^et Jem's man to dine with Jan. 1879 

to 
Settling. ^^.^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ j^^^^ j^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^ cooking, but May, 1879. 

he couldn't do it. Yesterday, Tim got some " over- 
alls," or coarse brown trousers and coat, and he 
is now wearing them. The coat is like an Eton 
jacket, so you may imagine what " six foot one " 
looks like in it. Our visitors are now gone, and 
Jem's man is greasing some saddle leathers, and 
Jem, who has just washed the dishes, is reading 
a paper, and so is Tim. Jem is looking very 
well. This is a most wonderful climate, I think, 
and seems to agree with every one. . . . That 
emigrant agent will be getting into pretty hot 
water very soon, if he hasn't done so already. 
Tim met several fellows as he came from New 
York, who were cursing him ; and I read in a 
newspaper yesterday that he had sold a man 

800 acres of land at , which is a place 

between Galveston and here, with a railway 
restaurant and four houses. He described it as 
a growing town, with five hotels and several 
good shops, and on one side of the 800 acres was 
said to be a stream, "which, although not quite 
a river, abounded in several kinds of fish.'"' Well, 

the man arrived at with his wife, to find 

the town as I describe it, and the stream a dry 

E 2 



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53 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. creek which never ran in its life, and the 800 Jan. 1879 
°' acres of land in a high state of cultivation to May, 1879. 
be a piece of the prairie land, which is all round 
the place ; so he went back to Galveston to 
wait till he could earn enough to take him back 
to England. Every one out here gives "that 
Emigrant man " a bad name, and if he came out 
I expect he would be shot. For a single man 
this country is all he describes it, or nearly so : 
but a married man expecting to settle down 
and make a living at once is badly sold, unless 
he has a lot of capital. 



Flirt would be a great pet out here, as all 
the dogs are large and ugly, except one sort 
which the Mexicans have. They are hideously 
ugly, though small, and haven't a bit of hair on 
except a sort of narrow ridge of bristles along 
their backs. They look as if they had been 
shaved, but are really born so. 

Cattle-men about here are just as Mark Twain 
paints them, and keep one roaring with their 
quaint sayings. Our party went up to the ranche 
of a fellow they knew as we were returning from 
Mexico. He suddenly recognized the Judge, and 
roared out his best welcome thus — "Well, d 



-A 



TURKEYS AND TURTLE. S3 



Part II. vour old soul, /lozv IN THE H are you, any Jan. 1879 

bettiing. j^^^^ p „ j^.g whole face beaming with pleasure. May. 1879. 
This is the sort of welcome one gets. They are 
so glad to see you that they sort of emphasize 

a bit. 

• •••••••• 

We camped one night on the river coming up, 
about two weeks ago ; it was awful hot, and we 
bathed in one of the pools, for at this time of 
year it is a series of pools and doesn't run ; and 
then I went out turkey-shooting. I saw a flock 
of ten or so run behind a cow about fifteen yards 
off; so I stooped down behind a bush till the 
cow should go away. The cow thought I was 
serenading her and jumped about, and the turkeys 
got away in the brush and I couldn't track 'em. 
You bet, I felt inclined to pay that durned cow. 
One day we caught a land turtle and baked it, 
and ate it and its eleven eggs, which were the 
same size as a yolk of an egg, and tasted just 
like one. 

We have very strong north winds here, and 
they have blown Jem's hut a foot or two out 
of perpendicular. (Here follows a sketch of the 
shanty.) 



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t 



54 GONE TO TEXAS. 



Part II. Half-Column Clipping from the ^'' San Antonio Daily ]^n. 1879 
etting. „ Qj^ ^ji^^id^y morning, Feb. 2, 1879, e?iclosed M^y, iZjg. 

in foregoing letter. 

"OXFORDSHIRE DOWNS. 
"Arrival of a Superior Breed of English Sheep — 

A FORMIDABLE RiVAL OF THE FAMOUS HAMPSHIRES 
AND SHROPSHIRES. 

" Yesterday a reporter of the was shown by Mr. W. 

H a flock of sheep, consisting of two bucks and four 

ewes, recently imported by him from England for breeding 
purposes. These animals are," &c., &c. (giving all that was 
claimed for the sheep by their breeder, Mr. Howard). 

" The sheep imported by Mr. H , and to which par- 
ticular reference is now made, were purchased directly from 
Mr. HoAvard, and were brought out under the immediate 

superintendence of Mr. T. W . They are splendid 

animals, and their magnificent fleeces will open the eyes," 
&€., (S:c. 

From Cousin Tim. 

Jem's Camp, San Antonio, 
Monday, Feb. 3, 1879. 

You will have heard from Willy before this 
that I arrived with the sheep all right. They (i.e. 
the sheep), I am glad to say, are in splendid con- 
dition, and could not have looked better the day 
they were put on board in Liverpool. You can- 
not imaghie how they've been admired ; every time 



CONVEYING SHEEP BY RAIL. S5 

Part IT. I pass the stables where they are lying there is a Jan. 1879 

Set*lin"' • ^" 

''■ small crowd looking on and askuig questions. May, 1879. 
It was just the same at Galveston ; everybody 
knew all about them half-an-hour after they were 
landed. I assure you it would have required a 
couple of clerks and a principal to answer half the 
enquiries that were made of me. I got just mad 
at last and left. I had rather a rough time of it 
in the freight train (of course I travelled with the 
sheep) coming up to San Antonio. The first 
night I slept on the floor of a cattle truck with 
half-an-inch of water in it, and the unfeeling brutes 
turned me out at four in the morning at a little 
out-of-the-way place called Harrisburg, and left 
me to wander about on the line looking for some 
human habitation. However, I met the watchman, 
and he took me in and gave me a chair to sleep on ; 
I had to wait there till five in the evening, and it 
was just slow I can tell you. That night I was a 
little more comfortable as I managed to get a 
couple of cushions, so I slept like a top till half- 
past four in the morning, when they turned me 
out again ; it was just maddening. After abusing 
the Company for upwards of an hour, I started in 
search of water for the sheep with a lantern and a 
bucket, and after a lot of groping about in the 



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^6 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. dark fotind a well, and just as I was getting the Jan. 1879 
''■ water a great ugly black dog, a trifle smaller than May, 1879. 
a cow, hunted me off the premises. But I did get 
some at last out of a cistern, so I was happy. 
Freight trains on these lines are about the slowest 
things In creation. I frequently used to jump off 
and cut cactus leaves for my charges, and catch 
her up again before she'd gone a hundred yards. 
In fact, I was cautioned about walking too fast In 
front In case I lost sight of her altogether. At 
any rate here I am at last. I am sorry to say I 
was only able to give Willy five guineas change 
out of the cheque you sent, but there were a lot 
of little expenses that mounted up considerably. 
Jem's camp Is a jolly place If the chimney would 
only draw ; as It Is, my eyes are watering so that I 
can hardly see to write. I got rather frightened 
about the sheep off Key West, which Is a regular 
West Indian place, populated almost entirely by 
Cubans and niggers : the steamer's side was so hot 
that you could not bear your hand on It, and they 
were all lying gasping for breath ; however, with 
plenty of iced water they pulled through. Did I 
tell you about the dead fish we passed through off 
the coast of Florida? One of the steerage pas- 
sengers happened to be looking over the side, and 



A HOME FOR THE SHEEP. SI 

P,H.II saw something white right ahead, which proved, J-. ^,8„ 
«<=«""S- when we got up to it, to be an immense shoal of M-y. ■«79. 
dead fish, sixty-five miles long ; in some places it 
was thicker than others, but there was always a large 
quantity round us for that distance. Somebody 
said they were killed by an eruption in the Gulf, 
but I have not learnt whether that was the true 
reason or not. . . . 

P.S. I've just got a gorgeous pair of top-boots, 
with " Hamilton Boot " printed in gold letters m 
front of them. I expect they'd create a sensation 
in the Row 1 

From Willy. 

Jem's Hut, San Antonio, 
Feb. lo, 1879. 

My mind is at last easy with regard to the 
sheep. I started with them on Wednesday, the 
5th, with a man, and a wagon in which we had 
the animals. We had a wet norther that night 
and next day up to about ^ p.m., when we reached 

Capt T 's ranche. He was very jolly, and 

made me stay that night, and in about two weeks 
I am going to spend a week pr so there. He has 
got a lovely place amongst hills, with lots of ever- 



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58 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. green oaks. He has about 9x6 miles, half of J^'^n. 1879 
*' which is fenced ; and his house is in the middle May, 1879. 
of the fenced part. It stands on a rise above a 
small stream, and you cannot see it till within 
a few hundred yards. He has several English 
fellows there. Tim and I just off down country. 

B 's Ranche, near Beeville, Bee Co., 

Feb. 22, 1879. 

This just to say that I'm well and flourishing. 
Went with Tim to Pleasanton, and for a week 
or so since that have been paying visits to several 
ranches down here, 100 or so miles from San 
Antonio. I ride about, and camp under a tree. 
At present I am staying with two English brothers 

of the name of B , very jolly fellows. They've 

got over 10,000 acres here of the prettiest country 
I've seen. I'm pumping everyone about sheep. 
Going to start for San Antonio on the 24th, I 

think ; and then going to visit Capt. T . It's 

awful hot — not a drop of rain for weeks. 

San Antonio, Texas, 
JNIarch 4, 1S79, 

Just back from my rambles down South. I 
have been over lots of land, and at lots of ranches, 
and have learnt everything almost, — ploughing, 



QUININE. 59 

and harrowing, and all the rest of it. I got the Jan.^x^879 
quinine all right, thanks : they use it a great deal May. 1879. 
out here. Since I have been here, however, I 
haven't needed any medicine, and don't feel like 
wanting it. Thanks for your advice about sheep. 
The best sheep can be bought for Z3I now ; though, 
after the losses in the winter, I expect they'll go 
up. About half the sheep died, I think. I am just 
off up to Capt. T 's, and will write from there. 

Cousin Tim to his Brother. 

General M 's Ranche, L Springs, 

March 4, 1S79. 

Here I am, settled at last ; and I'm going to 
tell you all about it. When I left Jem's camp 
near San Antonio, as I told you in my last, I 

went straight to Capt. T 's, to see if I could 

get on his ranche; but he was already over- 
stocked with hands. However, he recommended 

me to try at General M 's : so next morning 

I came here, and saw the general's son-in-law, 

Major E , and after a little talking, agreed with 

him to come and take entire charge of his flock of 
Angora goats; for which he pays me a pound 
a month, with board, and a tent to sleep in. Of 



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6o GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. course this is not much; but it's better than Jan. 1879 
"^ ■ nothing to start with, for you see I know nothing May. 1879. 
whatever about them, and have to have a good 
deal of help at first, and he has promised to give 
me something better, if I get on well, after a bit. 
My work consists of driving them out to pasture 
during the day, and seeing to the kids in the 
evening, when I get home. His ranche is about 
3000 acres, and I take them pretty well all over 
it. This would be pretty hard if I had to walk, as 
goats travel very fast ; but as I'm allowed two 
horses it's not so very difficult, though it's a little 
monotonous at times, as I seldom see a soul all 
day. I hope you will be able to read this ; but 
if you knew the difficulties I've had, you'd excuse 
me. First of all I bought a bottle of ink, and got 
ready to write to you, three days ago, and when 
everything was ready, I discovered that the bottle 
had fallen out of my pocket. Next day I bor- 
rowed a bottle from the major, and prepared 
again, but whilst I was getting ready the cork 
slipped out ; so did the ink ; so I was stopped for 
that night. To-night I borrowed another bottle, 
and then discovered I'd got no pen. I was ashamed 
to go up to the house to borrow one, so I caught 
an old turkey, and pulled some feathers out of 



TIM HIRED AS HERDSMAN. 6l 

Part il her tail, and tried to make a pen. Hence the bad J^^-^^^yg 
^" '"^' writing. There are three other men employed on ^^^y- ^^79- 
the place, all of whom are Mexicans, and the 
house-servants are, too, so I hear very little but 
Spanish spoken, and am picking up a little. The 
Major is a remarkably nice man, and is very good 
to me. He does all the real working of the estate ; 
the General only coming once a fortnight to see 
how things are getting on. My tent, where I am 
writing this, is such a snug little place. I've fenced 
it all in with brushwood to keep the cows out. 
I'm glad to say Tve not got to cook for myself, 
but get all my meals up at the house ; and very 
good ones they are, too, so I'm very comfortable. 
There is a good deal of game round here, mostly 
deer and turkeys. I had a capital run after the 
latter some days ago, but did not succeed in 
getting one, as my coat fell off my saddle just 
when I was getting near enough for a shot, and 
I had to go back for it. The deer are generally 
very shy and hard to get at. I got within 70 
yards of some yesterday, but I had no fire-arms 
with me. The greatest trouble we have here is 
the want of water. There is none fit to drink 
within two miles, and even then it's as muddy as 
pea-soup. There has been no rain for four months, 



' r 



<^2 GONE TO TEXAS. | 

i 
Part II. so all the creeks and waterholes are quite dry. Jan. 1879 

Settling. 01 . . ^^ I 

bheep-raising appears to be the most profitable May, 1879. j 

business in Texas, if they are well looked after. j 

To start in a small way )^ou want a capital of 

about ;^ 250. With this, and taking good care of M 

his sheep, a man ought to do well out here ; better, 

I think, than in cattle, as the country is too dry for I 

them. A number of the sheep-ranchers who come 

out here, after they have once got started, leave 

their flock entirely to the care of their shepherds, 

and they themselves loaf around town, smoking 

and drinking, and naturally enough soon lose all 

their money. I had intended to make this a long 

letter, but it's miserable work writing with this 

beastly pen, so I'll say, Good night. . . . 

P.S. I'll buy a decent pen next week, and write 
a good letter. Old Graphics would be most 
acceptable. 

Willy to Madge. 

Captain T 's, 

March 7, 1879. 

My sheep are getting on very well ; they run 
in the same field as some Cotswold sheep. These 
have white faces, and the others scorn them, as 
they are very proud of their black faces ; and when 



CAMTING ROUND. 6^ 

p^RTii. eating out of a trouc^h budge the others away Jan. 1879 

S ttT cr ^° 

seuiing. ^^i^j^ disdain. I have just been riding all over the May, 1879. 
country on horseback, camping wherever I hap- 
pened to be at sundown — sometimes under a tree, 
sometimes at a ranche, where they always wel- 
come one. Once I had an awfully fine camping 
place. I had just laid in a nose-bag full of grub 
(as I hadn't struck a store for some time), and 
was peckish. It was nearly sundown, and I rode 
out of the village to find a good tree to enjoy my 
repast under. I passed a house where there was 
a well and a small enclosure with half a small 
haystack in it ; and I went up to the house to 
ask if I might draw water. The house was bang 
empty ; evidently deserted some time back ; so 
I jumped for joy, turned my horse into the en- 
closure with the hay, and took possession of the 
well (which had very good water) and house ; made 
a good hay-bedj and announced that dinner was 
ready. Then I let into tinned pigs' feet and bread ; 
second course, cheese and bread ; desert, dried 
apples ; drink, water ; salt served with each course ; 
and had a splendid sleep afterwards. Taking 
possession in this way would be rum in England, 
but here it's all right ; probably the house will rot 
(they are of wood) before anyone uses the land again. 



r 



64 gone to texas. 

Willy to his Father. 

Captain T 's, 

March 7, 1879. 

Part II. I got here the day before yesterday, and found Jan- 1879 

Settling. to 

all the sheep in excellent condition. I have very ^^^y- ^879- 
sanguine hopes with regard to the offspring when 
crossed with some Merino bred sheep^ if they can 
only stand the heat. In a day or two I am going 
up North to look at land. It is healthier up there 
than South of San Antonio; and down in the 
South it is almost or quite impossible to find 
land at a moderate price with good water on it. 

Capt. T 's land is the best watered in the country 

I fancy ; he has thirteen springs on his 6000 acres, 
and the creek that runs below his house has a 
rock bed, and he is building a dam some way 
down which will fill the bed of the creek, which 
is deep and broad, with water : so he will have 
a running lake, about 10 to 20 yards broad by 
4C0 yards long, or more, in front of his house. 
Yesterday one of his pupils and I went out hunt- 
ing up cattle and horses. I rode one of the best 
horses I was ever on ; he never seemed to get 
blown, and just enjoyed running in as much as 
I did. He has been trained to it, and is awfully 



PREPARATIONS FOR SETTLING DOWN. 65 
Part II. quick. Some of the horses were pretty wild, and Jan. 1879 

Settlin"" ^^ 

"' would dart about all over the place ; but " Pat " (my May, 1879. 
horse) seemed to see which way they were going 
to go, and sometimes swung round nearly a com- 
plete double when going full tilt ; so, of course, if 
you don't watch the movements of the horse you're 
after pretty closely, " youVe got to swing off.'' 
Tim tells me that Dick is coming out ; if he is, 
will you get him to bring me out a small packet 
of the following seeds — turnip, mangold wurzel, 
clover, and meadow-grass. I want to try them 
on a small scale. Also, if Dick can bring it, 
"Sheep: their breeds, management, and diseases," 
by William Youatt, published by Simpkin, Mar- 
shall, and Co., Stationers' Hall Court, if it is not 
out of print. It costs Ss., and I presume that 
the half-yearly dividend on the bond which you 
speak of will cover this and the seeds. As soon 
as I can find a suitable piece of land, I shall buy 
it, and grow corn and millet. There is a very 
good sale for both. Good land will grow 50 to 
100 bushels of corn to an acre, which corn sells 
at 45 cts. to $1 per bushel, according to the 
market. I shall begin with only enough sheep 
for these two bucks, and in a very few years I 

shall have a very valuable flock all of one kind, 

F 



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66 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. which is a great thing. I shall keep fowls, Jan. 1879 
pigs, and turkeys ; so all the food I shall have May, 1879. 
to buy will be flour and coffee, sugar and salt, 
as I shall probably rear a few goats for meat 
purposes. All of these can be bought very cheap, 
and I can make more money this way than by 
working for any one ; and besides, of course my 
stock increases and ranche improves, and becomes 
more valuable. The only difficulty I see is land. 
The I500 I have will we// cover small stocky and 
horses, and wagon, provisions, &c. I have been 
carefully into it and know it. Land may cost 
me $250; I don't intend that it shall cost me 
more, as I can get what I want for this, so that 

if would let me lay out £S'^ or under of the 

money you mention in land, it would help me 
a good deal. I can begin making money directly « 

I get started, and would pay this back with five 
per cent, interest, as soon as possible. I should 
like to know by return if there is really the least 
objection to this, as, if there is, I will make ar- 
rangements to run my sheep on a ranche and 
work there ; but this does not pay so well, as 
I should have to work for nothing, for running 
my sheep on the ranche-owner's ground. 



white elephants, and bugs. 6^ 

Willy to his Father. 

San Antonio, 

March 13, 1879. 

Part il ... With regard to the Oxfordshire Down sheep Jan. 1879 
'"^' being a white elephant, you can't upset us any out May, 1879. 
here ; you may send a white elephant if you like, 
we'll make him pay, grow wool on him if neces- 
sary ! Tim is working on a farm and gets awfully 
well fed. I went to see him on my way back from 

T 's, and caught him up, driving back cattle 

from w^ater. He sleeps in a tent, where he has 
plenty of company in the shape of— well, not fleas ; 
they are animals Townsend calls red bugs in one of 
his Field letters, in which he says he had to get up 
in the middle of the night and go and get a bathe 
in a stream, they worried him so. There is a 
beetle out here, called the tumble-bug in polite 
society, that rolls a ball five times as big as itself. 
A green English fellow, just out the other day, 
asked " why was that ball pushing that bug 
about ^?" 

P.S. $484 received : as soon as I can find the 
land I want, we'll go booming. 

^ Tumble-bugs march stern foremost, pushing the lumps with 
their hind legs. 

F % 



r 



68 gone to texas. 

From Willy to Madge. 

San Antonio, 

March 13, 1879. 

Part II. I'm trying to sell my pony to-day as he only Jan. 1879 
''' carries me thirty-five miles a-day, which won't suit May, 1879. 
yours, &c. Jem starts on the trail in a few days 
now ; he is awfully glad, as he says hanging 
around puts him out of temper and gets away with 
the needful. Tim has a very jolly place and 
master — looking after cattle, horses, and pigs. He 
was herding goats, but they are kidding now, and 
so have been put under an experienced man. He 
used to employ his time in chasing rabbits into 
hollow trees (they don't have holes in the ground) 
and then burning them out ; then he took them 
home in the evening and ate them. It's a lovely 
day, but not too hot, as the wind's blowing. 

From Willy. 

San Antonio, 

March 20, 1879. 

I'm just watery hot, and I've been rushing about 
all day getting my team and baggage, as I've 
bought 160 acres near B ; it's an awfully hilly 



FIRST PURCHASE OF LAND. 69 

PART II. country, but fine grass, and healthy. There is un- Jan. ^^879 
Settling. iQ(,^^g^ land next door to me, not such good land, May. 1879. 
which will only cost me under $100 per 640 acres (!), 
and I can preempt eighty acres more for a small 
fee, and, if I want to fence, have the privilege of 
fencing in the 640 which I lay out for the State, 
next to my 640 acres. Of course, when the State 
can sell the land I have to take my fence off its 
640 acres (if I do fence it), but, as all State land is 
reserved at %\ 50^., it will be years before this is 
bought. I am going to try and get some sheep 
"on shares," i.e. I take care of them for the owner, 
and we divide profits and increase. Jem started 
after cattle yesterday. I met him as I came from 

B . A • and friend haven't turned up yet ; 

when they do I am going to try and get them to 
come and help me get ship-shape at my place, as 
Tim can't join me till after his month is out, which 
is on the 31st inst. I will tell you more about the 
place afterwards, when I have taken stock of it 
more. I traded my pony and got a good horse ; 
cost me $40 though. His name is " Billy," and he 
runs in the wagon with a mare whose name is 
"Bet": she cost me ^25. They are both large 
horses, and about the same size, and go well. Bet 
is a grey, and Billy a dun. The $500 covered 



r 



70 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. everything; i6o acres, wagon, harness, horses, Jan. 1879 
'"^' plough, corn, and hosts of cooking things, &c., and May, 1879. 
grub for a tremendous time. I am oft to collect 
the various parcels which are waiting for me. 
When the $ 100 come, I shall locate the 640 acres. 
The 160 acres tract has a hut on it, and a field, 
and more land which can be ploughed ; whereas 
the unlocated land is hilly and only good for 
stock. I paid (or rather shall pay when I get to 

B ) $225 for the 160 acres. I shall be on the 

safe side for provisions for over a year, and before 
that Tim and I will be making money. The only 
provisions we shall have to buy will be coffee, 
molasses, sugar, salt, flour, and pepper, as we shall 
raise vegetables, bacon, meat, eggs, and honey. 
There are two fellows here, one English and one 
American, that I know personally, who want to go 
into cattle ; so I am going to have a consultation 
with some one about the unlocated land, and if 
they think it will raise cattle well I shall try and 
get one of them to go into it with me, he buying 
and owning 100 cows and a bull or two, and I 
finding land, houses, winter-fodder, &c., on half 
profits. I can fence the 640 acres and pens, &c. 
for about ;^ioo, and of course raising cattle is a 
good thing. Cows can be bought for $5 or $10, 



PROSPECTS ON THE RANCHE. 71 

Part II. and their male calves when two years old would be Ja"- 1879 

Settling. , , to 

worth that. May, 1879. 

My address In future will be — ■ 
Post Office, B , 



Texas. 
From Tim. 

General M 's Ranche, 

March 21, 1S79. 

. . . Willy has bought a place of 160 acres of 
good land, lying about fourteen miles from here, 
and thirty from San Antonio. A few days ago he 
called here and offered me the chance of working 
it with him for half the profits, deducting for what 
my share of the provisions cost, he supplying 
everything in the shape of horses, wagons, farm 
Implements, &c. I join him at the end of the 
month, and we Intend to raise corn, fruit, and 
vegetables, for all of which there is a good demand. 
. . . You needn't have been afraid of troubling the 
bankers by sending too many letters to their care. 
There are several hundred addressed there every 
day, and the partners themselves never see them. 
They're put into a large box with pigeon-holes 
for each letter In the alphabet, and the owners 



r 



72 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. simply walk in and take them out. ... I gave up Jan. 1879 
minding the goats, after a week of it, to the old May, 1879, 
goatherd again, and the Major made me cowboy 
instead. My work now consists of hunting for lost 
cattle, and taking large herds to the waterholes 
about twelve miles from here. I am writing this 
lying out in the woods, looking after a lot of fine 
bulls, which are too valuable to be left alone, to 
turn up some day or another, as is done by all our 
neighbours. Some of them simply live in the 
saddle, keeping their cattle from going too far. 
I have been doing so for the last week, as we lost 
no end of animals. One day, sixty goats broke 
out of the pen, and got some miles from here. It 
took me a whole day to find them, and since then 
I've been riding after lost stock nearly every day. 
I'm glad to say that I am always fortunate enough 
to find them, but it's very tiring work, and knocks 
up no end of horses. I have to have two fresh 
ones every day, and both are dead beat at night. 
However, I've learnt to drive wild cattle, which is 
something. The first time I tried I could do 
nothing whatever with them, and had to go back 
for help, but now I can steer them through another 
herd without mixing them, with anyone round 
here. It's very exciting when you're driving 



DRIVING CATTLE. 73 

Part IT. twenty or thirty head of cattle through a large Jan. 1879 
'"'"' herd of the scrub brutes, preventing them from May. 1879. 
getting mixed, and cutting them out if they do. 
I can tell you it's considerably harder than driving 
a quill in Mark Lane, but I wouldn't exchange 
lives for a good deal. This ranche is a very fine 
one, though it's only 3000 acres. Most of the 
land is good, and there's been $12000 spent, in the 
last year, in improvements. All the stock is well 
bred, from the cows to the very ducks, which are 
Muscovy ; but I can't see how the money is to be 
returned for years to come, and if the stock can't 
stand the climate there will be a great deal lost. 
This winter four heifers died, which cost $^7^ 
apiece, in Illinois, in the autumn. For the Major's 
sake I hope the rest will be able to stand the heat 
of the summer, but I should very much doubt it. 
I had a narrow shave of being stung by a scorpion 

the last time I was at Jem^s camp. D and I 

were sleeping together in his little shanty, and had 
rolled up an overcoat to serve as a pillow, and in 
the morning when I woke there was one of the 
brutes lying on it^, right between our heads. He 
had crawled there for warmth, I suppose. If either 
of us had turned he must have been nipped. 
There are any amount of snakes around here, 



r 



74 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. principally the gentlemen with rattles. We killed Jan. 1879 
ett ing. ^^^^ ^ ^^^ days ago six feet long. He had nine- ^^^y- ^^79- 
teen rattles in his tail. I generally use a little 
Scotch terrier to kill them. He just seizes them 
by the middle of the body and shakes the life out 
of them, and then eats 'em. He seems to know as 
well as possible that, if he's bitten, it's all up with 
him, and goes hopping about, keeping his legs out 
of the way till theyVe dead. 

From Willy. 

The Shanty, 

March 30, 1879. 

My letters have been so full of small com- 
missions^ you must almost dread opening them ; 
but I think I am straight now. I have been work- 
ing like a nigger for the last seven or eight days. 
My man and I got here on the 22nd, and we have 
nearly cleared three acres of stones (some of which 
are as big as a man's body), and we are well on 
with tying up grass for thatching. I cut the grass, 
which is a kind used here for thatching, in the 
creek, not 100 yards from the door. We should 
have finished thatching probably, only I wasted 
three days in going to San Antonio, to see if that 



FIRST DAYS ON THE RANCHE. 75 

Part II. money had arrived, as I am very anxious to secure Jan. 1879 
Settling. ^^^ ^^^ ^^^,^g ^^^^ ^^^ before anyone else. How- May, 1879. 

ever I am daily expecting to hear from L of 

its arrival, and hope the land will wait for me. A 
large creek runs by here, about twenty yards in 
front of the door, but the water only runs half the 
year or so, during the rainy season. In front of 
the house, there are 100 or more yards of level 
rock -bed, with steep sides about six feet high, and 
I am going to dam this up, and if it holds water, 
we shall have a lake. Inquisitive neighbours came 
in at first, like grandmothers round a daughter's 
first-born, to give all sorts of opinions and advice ; 
but they have found out they're not wanted. Tim 
joins me on April i. He and I are going into 
partnership with regard to all products of the field, 
corn, &c. I find land, and tools, and camp neces- 
saries, which of course remain my property, and 
we each pay our share of the grub-bill. We ought 
to make a good thing of it, not only in corn, and 

perhaps cotton, but in vegetables. B is cram 

full of sick people ; there are three /a7'£-e hotels, 
and numbers of boarding houses. In short, it is 
only a large consumption hospital : and yet I 
haven't seen a fresh vegetable in town ! We are 
near enough (5 miles) to run a van in everyday, if 



r 



7<5 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. necessary, and I expect we should sell all we could Jan. 1879 

Settlin"". . ^*^ 

raise. You ought to see me now ; squatted on the May, 1879. 
floor, leaning against a plough, barrels of flour and 
corn-meal, bags of beans and rice, kegs of molasses, 
frying-pans, skillets and coffee pot, spades, &c., &c., 
all around ; chickens just going to roost in the 
trees outside, over the waggon. Grub is awful 
cheap, I will give you a few items of the only 
necessaries. Beef 4 cents and 5 cents per lb. ; 
bacon 8 cents (this one can cure oneself) ; flour 
$7 per barrel, or in small quantities $3 per 100 lbs. ; 
beans 35 lbs. for $i; sugar 10 lbs. and 12 lbs. for 
$T ; Molasses, $4 per 8 gal. keg; salt, ^2, per cvvt. ; 
cofl"ee, in the green bean, 6 lbs. for $1 ; rice, 15 lbs. 

for $1. Apropos of coffee, Capt. T tells an 

amusing story of himself. When he and Mrs. 

T came out, about a year ago, they went 

shopping ; and amongst other things, he asked to 
be shewn some cofl'ee. The man of course brought 
the green beans — it is seldom sold anyhow else 

here — " That's not coffee " says Capt. T , 

" coffee's brown stuff, like snuff, you can't fool 
me ! " It has been a standing joke against him 
ever since, in San Antonio. 

To-day has been almost suffocatingly hot, and 
very little breeze for a wonder. I had a bathe, 



A STRAY SCOTCHMA^T. 77 

Part II. and couldn't lean against the rock, it was so hot. Jan.^1^879 
^'"""^* I hadn't much of a bathe though, only a splash : May. 1879. 
coming back from town, I came across a splendid 
hole and stripped, and was just going in, when I 
saw a snake swimming about with his head out of 
water. This was enough, I splashed in the shallow 
water near the hole. I don't mind bathing where 
there may be snakes, as they seldom if ever touch 
one, but after seeing one one doesn't exactly like 
to take a bath with it. I have got a Scotchman 
workine with me. He came to me with tears in 
his eyes, just before I left San Antonio, and asked 
if I knew where he could get a job, as he hadn't 
a cent., and had slept and eaten just where he 
could for some days ; so I have taken him on for 
a short time, till he gets stronger. I left him in 
charge here while I returned to San Antonio, and 
on my return, found his work well got forward. 
He never did manual work before, having tried to 
get a school, as he is well educated. He is about 
twenty-six or twenty-seven I should say, and came 
out five years ago, as his father, who is a Scotch 
clergyman, wasn't well off, and had a large family, 
of which he is the eldest. He had saved up money 
in New York, for a visit home last year, but was 
taken ill, and it went to the doctor. He is to be 



r 



78 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. pitied, but there are many more like him out here. Jan. 1879 

Settlino" ^^ 

He is getting stronger, and I expect will drop the May, 1879. 
idea of a school, and work out of doors, which will 
be much better for him. I wish you could see this 
place. You ought to come and live here ! It is 
in a tremendously long valley, and the healthiest 
locality in Texas. I must cook our supper now, 
;'o goodbye. 

From Cousin Tim. 

Willy s Shanty, 

Sunday, April 6, 1879. 

Here I am at last, permanently settled, I hope, 
for some time to come. I got here last Tuesday 
morning, having come straight from the General's 
the day my month was up^ and found Willy 
hard at work thatching the roof, after a fashion 
he learned in Mexico. It takes a long while to 
do, but makes a capital roof when you do get 
it up : we have been hard at work at it ever 
since, and it's not finished yet. . . . We are all 
in great confusion, and shall be till we get the 
roof on and make a table. At present we eat 
all our meals sitting on the floor. I tried my 
hand at making bread a few days ago, for the 
first time, and succeeded to perfection. It just 



SNAKES. 79 

PART II. rose beautifully, and since then I've always done Jan. ^x^s.g 
^^"'^"^- it, and never had a failure. It's almost exactly May. 1879. 
similar to that used in the Irish cabins, except 
where we use Indian meal, which is a Uttle ch^er 
but not so nice. Our hours at present are f^-om 
5 a.m. to 7 p.m., but I expect they will be earlier 
after a bit. This is a gloriously healthy place, 
and much cooler than farther South. The town 
near us is a great resort for invalids in summer : 
people are ordered there much the same as they 
are to the hills in India. ... Our stock consists 
of three horses, six sheep, twelve hens, and a few 
tame turkeys which I bought from our nearest 
neighbour, a Cumberland man. ... I'm afraid 
youM hardly own us if you saw us now : we look 
so disreputable in our old canvas trousers and 
flannel shirts, and such seedy hats. But nobody 
here dresses respectably except the store-keepers. 
I meet no end of snakes whilst I'm at work; 
principally harmless ones. I killed four in less 
than an hour a few days ago. I just slice off 
their heads and bring them home for the chickens, 
who are very fond of them. One of the vicious 
ones gave me a great start. I was sitting in 
the grass, under a bush, and felt something tickling 
the back of my neck : at first I took no notice, 



r 



8o GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. thinking it was a straw, but after a bit I put J^^- ^^79 
"" up my hand to pull it away, and just as I touched ^^^y- ^^79- 
it a lively snake about three feet long glided over 
my shoulder on to my knees. I can tell you I 

just jumped and cleared out! Young A , 

with three more young Englishmen, arrived in 
San Antonio about a week ago. We have asked 
them to come up here for a bit to help with 
the clearing and fencing, but we have not had 
an answer yet. Probably some of them will turn 
up in a day or two. If they do, we shall get 
on like wild-fire ; but it will be an awful squash, 
as our house is only 12 feet by 9, and at present 
it's filled with ploughs, boxes, &c. The next 
thing we are going to do is to build a store- 
room for them. ... I think we shall have lots 
of fruit this summer, principally wild grapes, 
which grow in huge quantities here and are very 
good eating, and make very fair wine, for which 
you get 6s. a gallon in San Antonio. 

From Willy to his Brothers. 

April 8, 1879. 
I have at last had the surveyor out, and located 
my 640 acres of land ; so I have now 800 acres 
of my own, and on one side of me there are 



THE CREEK. 8 I 

Part II. 640 acres of school land, and on the other 640 Jan. 1879 

Settling. roil ^° 

acres 01 btate land ; so we shall have plenty of May, 1879. 
breathing room. There Is over a mile of creek 
on my land, which is running now, although 
this is an unusually dry season. It does not run 
in all parts of the creek, but every hundred 
yards or so there is a long hole of running 
water ; it then sinks under till it comes to the 
next hole. . . . We are awfully hilly here, but 
it is a good grass country. . . . The last time I 
came from San Antonio I started at 2 p.m., 

stopped at Capt. T 's an hour, and over half 

an hour in B , seeing the surveyor, and got 

home at 9 p.m. Going round by T 's made 

the distance o^"] miles. This was on Bet, the 
mare, who is a very good riding nag. We broke 
Tim's horse into the wagon with Billy yesterday. 
He bucked at first, but went very well afterwards, 
and didn't smash anything. I must go to bed 
now, I'm so tired, and it's nearly eight. If you 
fellows get tired of England, come on out, and 
bring Granny with you. It's an awfully unworry- 
ing life, and no weekly bills ! 



G 



r 



83 gone to texas. 

From Willy to the Doctor. 

My Lut, near B , 

April 9, 1879. 

Part II. You bet ! We don't get too much literature Jan. 1879 

Settlin*^. ^^ 

""' out here to think letters are'^boshy"; so scrawl May, 1879. 
away all you know, and bring yourself out if you 
like. This is just the place for you if you get 
seedy, as it is awfully healthy. I am just going 
into town for our weekly beef, five pounds of which 
will cost me twenty-five cents. We are nearly 
eaten up with ticks ; it's just awful ; I look as if 
I had the measles bad, but the hens are getting 
away with a good many I think. They are little 
flat red animals, about the size of a ladybird, and 
live in the trees ; but if they can get fresh meat 
they prefer it. 

From Willy to Madge. 

April 15, 1879. 

... I expect my poultry yard will increase rapidly, 
as I intend to make all the hens that want to sit 
bring out young ones, as they are not likely to 
find my 800 acres too small for them for some 
time to come. I have a half-tailed rooster ; the 
hens pecked the other half off the first day I 



THE POULTRY. ^3 

Part II. brought him here. He was a very Inferior cock Jan.^1879 
^"""^* where he came from, but since he has been here May. 1879. 
he has been swaggering around, and sitting on 
the fence, and crowing with all his might. He 
was the first cock I bought, and has bullied the 
second cock out of the yard ; and the latter and 
his hens go into the field behind all day, and only 
come up at night to roost in the trees. There are 
deer and wild turkeys about, but we haven't seen 
any yet, as we have hardly left the ranche. 
But there are rabbits around. Tim saw four 
to-night, and I shot one the other night with 
my pistol. I saw him by the creek, so I watched 
him, and yelled to Tim for the pistol. I held 
out my hands behind my back and Tim shoved 
the pistol into them, saying, "Look out, it's 
cocked ! " So I upped the pistol at that rabbit 
and shot him through the head, and in five minutes 
he and his skin had party company, the latter 
buried in the garden, and he hanging up outside 
I the door ; and we stewed him for breakfast, and 

wasn't he good, oh my! ... I am generally cook, 

and turn out some fine concoctions; but G 

and Tim are rapidly learning. 



G 2 



r 



84 gone to texas. 

From Willy to his Father. 

April 15, 1879. 

Part II. We are getting along grandly. We have a fence Jan. 1879 

Settling. to 

about 40 yards by 20 round the hut, and a gate- May, 1879. 

way opposite the hut that we put bars across 

at night to keep cows, &c., out; and we have 

fenced in a garden next us about the same size 

as the yard, and have got lettuces, tomatoes, 

onions, carrots, radishes, potatoes, and standard 

and climbing beans in, and I shall put some melons 

in shortly. . . . We have plenty of live stock around 

us of our own, not to speak of every one else's 

animals, which seem to prefer us to their owners. 

The German's cows and pigs pay us visits, also 

one of S 's dogs, and his geese come and stay 

all day sometimes, and one of his gobblers has 

apparently taken up his abode here permanently. 

Our greatest worry is our German neighbour. 

He is a rummy little old man, who seems to do 

nothing all day but hunt for his four oxen which 

he turns out every night. He comes by, and asks 

if we have seen them, and talks for some time, . 

and then goes after them ; then, in an hour or 

so he comes back and talks again, after saying 

that he saw his boy had found the oxen, and was j 



A GERMAN NEIGHBOUR. 85 

Part II. driving them home. His boy is the only one Jan. 1879 

^^"^'"^* who ever finds them, though C always hunts May, 1879. 

too ; and how the boy finds them among these 
hills I don't know, unless it is by Instinct, as he 
has done nothing but hunt those oxen all his life, 
I expect. We had a thunderstorm this morning 
for about an hour, and it poured like anything, 
and part of the time huge hailstones, some nearly 
as big as hens eggs, came down. It moistened 
the ground a bit, and I think I shall start some 

ploughing to-morrow, after I have been to B 

for mail matter, which I fetch every Sunday and 
Wednesday morning. 

From Cousin Tim. 

The Log Hut, 

April 20, 1879. 

... I'm working outside all day, cutting down 
trees and clearing out roots, or ploughing ; and 
in the evening there's just time for supper, mend- 
ing my clothes, or cooking, and then turn into 
bed, for which I'm always ready. We all sleep 
on the floor, one rug over, and one under us. I've 
got so accustomed to the hard floor that it seems 
as comfortable as ever a soft mattress did. The 
only one I've slept on since I've been out was 



r 



86 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. at Capt. T 's. . . , It's getting to be very hot Jan. 1879 

Settling. ^^r;-, , 1 . • 1 . , ^^ 

now. When we re working with iron tools we May, 1879. 
have to put them in the shade, or they bhster 
our hands. 

The Shanty, 

April 27, 1879. 

. . . Thank heaven the rain's come at last ; 
as Willy says, '' oodles of it ! '' You can 
almost hear the grass growing ; and the creek's 
running again for the first time since last July. 
Willy's gone into San Antonio to buy some 
more grub, and a wagon and horse for hauling 
cedar-posts and lumber for the new fence. I've 
been left in charge with a man to help me, and 
have been trying to plough this morning, but the 
rain prevented me from doing much, I'm sorry to 
say, though I've managed to get wet to the skin 
twice this morning already, and am now steaming 
away before a big log fire. This hut just lets the 
water in everywhere. It's worse than my tent was 
at the Major's, and there it was positively dan- 
gerous to go to sleep without a life-buoy, on a 
rainy night ! All the fowls keep coming in ; it's 
impossible to keep them out. If Willy doesn't 
make a door soon, they'll ruin our Brussels carpet ! 
The beasts have already eaten all my bacon ; so 



SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS. 87 

Part II, I've got nothing to eat till Willy comes back Jan. 1879 
''' in three days' time, but corn bread and beans. May, 1879. 
I think I'll slay the ring-leader of the bacon-eaters. 
It's very amusing here at night sometimes. The 
part of the floor where we sleep slopes in the 
middle. Willy and I sleep on either side, and 

G in the centre. He keeps continually rolling 

down on to one of us, and whoever he comes down 
on drives him back to the other side. I wedged 
him up one night with large stones on each side, 
but he said they weren't exactly comfortable ! The 
Mater told me in her last that you were coming 
to the States this summer, and going to bring 
Chico and the Doctor with you. You may guess 
I was delighted to hear it ; but don't leave those 
youngsters in New York ; bring 'em on here. 
There's a sulphur spring within half-a-mile, and 
the Doctor can poison himself as much as he 
pleases ! 

From Willy. 

April 30, 1879. 

. . . My finger does not pain me now, but puts 
a stop to my work. It began with inflammation, 
and I think I made it worse by trying to go on 
with the ploughing, and it turned into an abscess. 



r 



88 GONE TO TEXAS. 

I 
Part II. We have a hard-working young fehow working for Jan. 1879 

Settling. . to 

US, and have got an acre of corn in, and are May, 1879. 
preparing (clearing bushes, roots, &c.) for more. 

G turned lazy, so he had to go, but I pro- ^ 

mised to let him work for his board if he hadn't 
found anything else in San Antonio when I 
went in to haul provisions. He didn't turn up, so 
I suppose he has got a clerkship, or something. 
There are some rum specimens of British subjects 
out here. One of them, in San Antonio, belongs 
to a titled family, and I think his name is in the 
blue-book. He hasn't a cent, and won't work, 
but just gets what he can out of everyone. I 
mentioned his name to a fellow the other day, and 
he said, " Oh, you know him, do you?" "Yes," 
I said, " I met him to-day." " Did you ? How 
much did he get out of you?" He has a most 
gentlemanly face, but his light London suit is 
beginning to look shabby, and matches the dirty 
white shirt with no tie or collar, very well. He 
got into a scrape in England, I suppose, and got 
kicked out. The ticks still rage furiously. (Aunt 

M sent Tim a packet of insect powder, telling 

him to put it on the bed and sheets !) Tim used 
to fill pins with them ; but as we hadn't any 
statistics of the number of pins in the U.S., we 



STRIKING OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 89 

Part II. gave that Up ; and now we crack them with our Jan. 1879 
ett mg. ^j.Qj^|. iQQ^i^^ They are harder than fleas, and won't ^i^y- 1879. 
be squashed between two nails. Our German 
neighbour came round raging the other day to 
where we were burning some bushes, and tried to 
prevent us^ saying we would " set his lant on fire ! " 
So we told him to go to the devil. Then there was 
a scene of a German in all his majestic fury. He 
swore, and stamped, and shouted around ; but we 
didn't take any notice of him. He has now 
cooled down, and was round here yesterday as 
affable as usual. Tim brought a letter for me 
to-day, from Momo or the Doctor, I think, and it 
blew in the fire before I opened it. I was just 
going to enjoy it and my dinner together, so it was 
very riling. I hope there wasn^t anything of very 

great importance in it. ... I met old W in 

San Antonio the other day. He was in buying 
a pony, as he was still holding sheep outside town, 
and had let someone get away with his two horses 

and all his clothes. Since I last saw them, X 

has become bankrupt, and the great Z got on 

a royal old drunk one night, which cost him ^250. 
I had a long ride to San Antonio the last time. 
My horses were hard at work in the field, so I 
rode Tim's pony, and he just knew I couldn't use 



r 



90 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. my right hand to lick him, and walked nearly all Jan. 1879 

Settling ^^ 

the way. If I dropped the bridle and took up the May, 1879. 

rope with my left hand to whack him, he'd go off 

at right angles to the left like lightning, so I had 

to catch up the bridle again, and pull him straight. 

I saw a very good surgeon about my finger in 

San Antonio ; he is a Scotchman, just like the 

London type of doctor, and not like the man in 

B , whom I should probably have addressed 

with " Is your master in.^" if someone hadn't pre- 
viously told me that " That is Dr. Blank, sir, 
standing in his doorway." 

Willy to the Doctor. 

May 5, 1879. 

... Tim shot a red bird the other day. The 
breast is brilliant scarlet, and I was going to send 
it you for fish flies, only it got wormy before I had 
time to skin it. We will shoot another soon, 
probably, and I'll skin him sooner. Some wild 
turkeys come on to the field to get the corn, but 
we haven't shot any yet. The pigs from the 
neighbouring ranches also come and root it up, 
and Tim says he shall sleep in the field to-night 
and shoot them, but I expect he'll weaken on 
sleeping out when it comes to the point. 



THE STUD. 91 

From Willy. 

May 20, 1879. 

. . . Tim Is now out, trying to make a contract Jan. 1879 

to 

for cedar posts for fencing our thirty acres or so May, 1879. 
of pasture. He started yesterday morning, and 
was to bring back a cow and calf if possible, so I 
expect the cow has been amusing herself at his 
expense. I have been into San Antonio two or 
three times lately, after shingles for roofing. The 
time before last I bought a horse for $13, said to 
have worked in a wagon, though from the way 
he " worked " I should say he never had. I drove 
him and Ted's horse (which we've only had once 
or twice in a wagon), and I had just a bother with 
them. After I got out of Town I got them into 
going order, and they go splendidly now, especially 
my $13 animal "Tracy" ; but I had to lead them 
all through Town, and whenever I stopped for 
anything there was a circus to make them start 
again. I had to get a man every time to saw 
Tracy's front legs with a rope, and this took some 
minutes, by which time a small crowd would 
assemble to see the fun. Tim was hauling water 
in the wagon the other day and the axle broke, 
through a flaw (which of course I had mended for 



r 



9^ GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. nothing), and the forty-eight gallons of water, or Jan. 1879 

Settlinor. to 

part of it, gave him a shower-bath. We have had May, 1879. 
no rain for some time, and every day is almost 
cloudless and very hot, but there is always a cool 
gulf breeze blowing. Tim found a wild turkey's 
nest with eleven eggs, and I have been vainly 
trying to get two hens to sit on them. I'll have 
to glue them to 'em I guess. Why don't you 
people pack up and come out here right away? 
I am going to get a portable two-roomed hut, as 
our hut is so full of tools, harness, and grub, that 

there would not be room if D came out. 

Then, if his family comes, he can have the portable 
and build a kitchen off it, and Tim and I can rig 
up a box. A neighbour of ours has a raised two- 
roomed house, with front verandah and large stone 
chimney, which cost him I230, hauling, and build- 
ing, and materials and all. . . . People out here are 
mighty calm about their land. I went to a lawyer 

in San Antonio, about a piece I wanted in B , 

which belonged to him. He said he'd never seen 
it, and didn't know when he should be able to, 
though he believed it did belong to him. ... I 
don't think that I shall ever smoke, as I know it 
hurts one's ability to think to a certain extent, 
and is also a beastly waste of time. . . . Rasp- 



INDOORS AND OUT. 93 

Part II. berries, currants, gooseberries, and strawberries are Jan.^1^879 
^^"""^' almost unheard of here. Think what a sensation May, 1879. 
we shall make when we raise them! I suppose, 
even if D hasn't started yet, it would be im- 
possible to send a plant or two of each at this 
time of year for cuttings? . . . Yes, I think Texas 
horses and ponies are stronger than English ones. 
They generally run wild till four or five years old, 
so get plenty of exercise. I expect Tim every 
minute with a cow. I hope she gives four quarts. 
This is about the maximum at a milking here. 
Some only give one quart. I have no pigs yet, 
as they grub up so. Our neighbours pigs are quite 
nuisance enough. 

From Cousin Tim. 

Saturday, some time in May, 1879. 

I made a great effort to write last Sunday, but 
it was so intensely hot indoors that my ideas 
seemed to melt away. It's a curious thing, that as 
long as I am out of doors I can do any sort of 
work, and don't mind the heat a bit, but the 
instant I get inside I'm fit for nothing. Willy, 
I'm sorry to say, has had a very bad abscess on 
his little finger for the last three weeks, and has 



r 



94 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. been able to do no work except cooking, so I've Jan. 1879 

Settling. to 

been pretty busy. We have now got a nice long May, 1879. 
straight field of about four acres cleared and 
ploughed. Part of it was also planted with corn 
and melons, but the wild turkeys ate them all up. 
I dusted one gobbler's jacket with a couple of 
charges of buck shot, but they've been coming to 
it all the same nearly every day since. We are 
not going to plant it again with corn. I wish we 
had some cabbages ready now, they are worth is. 

each at San Antonio, and more still at B •. 

I expect I shall commence cutting cedar posts 
next week, for the fence. The cedar brake is 
about fifteen miles from here, so I think I shall 
have to camp there for one night each load. We 
shall, by cutting and hauling ourselves, save three 
and a-half cents a post, which will make a great 
difference in a two-mile fence. I intend some 
time this year to take a few wagon loads to San 
Antonio. You can always get $10 a hundred for 
them there, and sometimes |I2, and as it only 
costs $ I for the privilege of cutting them, it's 
pretty good pay for your three days^ work. I 
dare say you will have wondered what the en- 
closure was. It's a rattlesnake's rattle, that I shot 
a few days ago. He was making such a row that 



CHICKEN SNAKES. 95 

I heard him a long way off, and came up and Jan. 1879 
killed him. He was only about four feet long, but May, 1879. 
was as thick as your arm. The chicken snakes 
are the greatest nuisance of all. They don't leave 
us a single egg. One of them ate seventeen out 
of a nest one day, and the same brute ate ten 
turkey's eggs that the old hen was sitting on. I 
will poison an egg or two for them. If I don't we 
shall never see the ghost of a chicken. 

From Willy. 

May 26, 1879. 

... I think Chico and the Dr. had better come 
straight here, as we have lots for them to help us 
in. The water in the creek runs through and over 
rock and gravel, and is splendid. It is the water 
down South, below San Antonio, that is so bad. 
I don't think I tasted any really good water all 

that trip. I went to see Capt. T yesterday, 

and while I was there one of the ewes dropped a 
lamb. This is the first. The Captain sings out, 
" Hulloa, Willy ! there's another hundred dol- 
lars." I have made some pretty good stock pur- 
chases lately. I ride about and hear where there 
are animals I want, for sale cheap. Yesterday I 



r 



9*5 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part IT. bought three milch cows (one with a three week Jan. 1879 

Settlin*'' 

''■ old calf) for 1 30. This is the stock that pays here, May, 1879. 
and small settlers wouH sell a cow except at a 
high figure, until they are hard up, which occurs 
pretty often, then they come down to a reasonable 
figure. . . . The other day we had such a hunt after 
those cussed horses. We were three days after 
them about the country, as they had a wild fit, 
that is, Billy and Tracy had. At last Tim got 

them into a high pen the other side of B , but 

Billy cleared the gate and Tracy tried to follow, 
only Tim had hold of his rope. At last we got 
them here, and now they go about crestfallen^, with 
hobbles round their forelegs, the beggars ! 

Willy to the Doctor. 

May 26, 1879. 

. . . Horse-doctoring isn't of much use here. 
They never seem to be ill. The only ailing out 
of the thousands I have seen was a swollen nose, 
which was cured by lancing. If a horse does get 
ill, it's ten to one it's a $15 one, and the owner 
wouldn't pay 50 cts. to cure it. Now sheep doctor- 
ing wozild be useful. They very often die for 
want of proper care and knowledge, and raisers 



ADVICE FOR THE WAY OUT. 97 

Part II. are not nearly careful enough with them. . . . Bring Jan. 1879 
fettling. ^ ^^^ shirts and socks, and as little else as possible. May. 1879. 
Beware of sharpers on trains and at stations. Go 
to the Central Hotel in San Antonio. Let me 
know when you expect to arrive in San Antonio, 
and I will meet you with wagon ; or wire from 

thence to B (cost 25 c) We've plenty of 

horses for you. Finger still bad. Dr. in B 

said I should lose it if I wasn't careful. 

From Willy. 

May 30, 1879. 

... Just off with wagon and two yoke of steers 
to fetch the four ewes. The lamb was premature 
rather, and died. I had six or seven attempts to 
get our first $11 cow and calf here, and at last 
had to haul her in the wagon. Will I take a 
pupil? why, yes: and the fee, $300 per ann., if 
he's a hanger on. If he'll work, and take an in- 
terest in what he does, he may stop as long as he 
likes for nothing ! Will you get the following book 
for me—" The Book of the Farm ; detailing the 
labours, &c. By H. F. Stephens, F.R.S.E. W. 
Blackwood and Sons, 1871." I will pay for it 

when you come out. . . . 

H 



r 



98 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part II. TO THE DOCTOR — Jan. 1879 

Settling. . t° 

I wish you would bring out my " Enquire within i^^ay, 1879. 
upon Everything " book. It's in my room. Also, 
if you have time to get them made, a one pound 
and a half-pound butter print, with a " fleur-de-lis " 
on them. Get Chico to draw it carefully on 
paper, as the man will want a good copy. This is 
my brand. I'll pay you for the prints when 
you come out. Bring comb, brush, tooth-brush, 
and sponge, of course, and look in my chest of 
drawers and bring all the light evening neck- 
chokers, if any. They are very useful in the sun. 
I mean those things you wear when on your way 
to a party at night. You'd better bring the worn- 
outest old coat you've got, with the old trowsers, 
on board ship, as salt water spoils clothes awful. 



PART III. 

WILLY'S AND THE DOCTOR'S 
LETTERS. 



STRIKING ROOTS. 



II 2 



r 



INTRODUCTORY. 



Part III. 

Striking 
roots. 



Early in the spring of 1879 I had determined to go Dec. 1879 

to the United States, and, before settling in business in New j^i^y, 1880. 

York, visit Willy at his ranche. The Doctor's eyes had 

given way from work by gas-light, and he had had to 

give up his Scholarship, and was to go to his brother for 

a year's fallow before studying medicine in New York or 

Philadelphia. Chico was to go with us on a three months' 

visit to the ranche, but as the Doctor and myself could 

not start for America till the 4th July, and as we were 

all anxious about Willy's hand, he preceded us, and went 

to the ranche by land from New York. We followed in 

July, and with us Cousin Dick, Tim's elder brother, and 

a young friend, Lennie Windale, both of them intending 

to settle in Texas. We went steerage, via New York to 

Galveston, where we met Tim on his way back to Ireland 

to join another brother there, and go with him to New 

Zealand. He brought a better account of Willy's hand, 

and told us of Chico's arrival at the ranche in good case. 

So we saw him off by the steamer which had brought us 

to Galveston, and then went on to San Antonio, where 

we were met by Willy, who drove us up to the ranche 

in his wagon. There we had a " real good time," and bore 

a hand at fence-making, well-digging, and whatever other 

work was going on. Dick, who was a good horseman, took 



r 



roots. 



I02 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part III. to breaking- in ponies on the ranche, and towards the end Dec. 1879 
Striking of October, when I was returning to my work in New -^/^ ^gg^^ 
York, took up a car-load of them to sell there, and, as 
will be seen, returned to the ranche in the following 
February to break in and take up another car-load. After 
that he settled in New York. Chico returned to his art- 
work in London in November, leaving Willy, the Doctor, 
and Lennie at the ranche. While we were at the ranche, 
Willy bought a flock of 200 ewes of the country, to cross 
with the Oxfordshire Downs, the chief care of which was 
undertaken by the Doctor. — W. H. 



From Willy to iils Grandmother. 

.... Ranche, 

Dec. 31, 1879. 

.... I think it will be pleasanter for you to 
have a temporary wooden house on the ranche 
till your other house is built. These wooden 
houses can be made exceedingly comfortable. 
An Englishman near here has one which cost 

altogether £60, building and everything 

We are having lovely weather. Last night I 
slept out on a balcony with only a wagon sheet 
over me, and to-night I am in my shirt sleeves 
with my shirt open, sitting by an open door 
and window, with a warm South wind blowing 



THE DOCTOR'S START AS SHEPHERD. 103 

Part III. hard at me. If it wasn't for the wind it would Dec. 1879 
roots.'' be unpleasantly hot. . . . We feed our calves on May, 1880. 
cotton seed and sometimes when I go through 
the pasture I have a string of twenty or so after 
me, expecting to be fed. We salt our sheep 
every night, and it is very amusing. I have 
been thrown off my legs several times by them, 
as a hundred and fifty of them charge me if I 
don't fill their troughs quick enough 1 



From the Doctor. 

.... Ranche, 

Jan. 8, 1880. 

.... I know a great many of the ewes by 
name now, and expect I shall have got names 
for nearly all before next Spring. There is Ber- 
tram, a dark scowling sheep (Rokeby) ; Traddles, 
a skeleton of a sheep (Copperfield) ; Joe, a fat 
barrel of one (Pickwick) ; and Godiva is very 
long-woolled. Bulldog is underhung. Jerky has had 
a broken leg, &c.j 8ic. 



104 gone to texas. 

From Willy. 

.... Ranche, | 

Jan. 8, 1880. 

Part III We have just had a tremendous rain, Dec 1879 

roots!^ and our 2i acres of oats are coming up well. May, 1880. 
The roads between this and San Antonio are 
black land for the most part, and they got as 
sticky as " butter-scotch." I passed the stage- J 

coach as I went down. It had clogged up with 
mud, and luckily had only three passengers, all 
men, who were in their shirt sleeves out on the road 
with sticks, knocking the mud from between the 
spokes, as the coach couldn't move! .... I have 
not planted out the fruit trees, as I shall leave 
them for you to say where they are to be put. 
.... The rain has put water into the creek, 
and the frogs make a tremendous noise all night, 
squealing. I have a muff of a Texan working 
for me. He's been hunting for my two work- 
oxen for two days now, and hasn't returned. 
Just fancy having to hunt one's cattle for miles 
and miles round ! It takes more time than any- 
thing else almost. . . . We had a plum-pudding 
on Christmas-Day. The Doctor made it. It was 
a great success, and we bought some whiskey 



ROUGH PLOUGHING. 105 

Part III. and set the pudding alight in good old style. Dec 1879 

Striking -,^7 .. , , , , . 1 1 j ^^ 

roots. We didn t do any decorating, as we hadn t any May, 1880, 
holly, and mistletoe would have been out of 
place among such a lot of old bachelors as we 
are. 

The Ranche, 

Jan. 19, 1880. 

. . . We are awfully busy now ploughing up the 
field. It is exceedingly rich, and we turn furrow 
after furrow without turning up a single stone. 
There are about ten acres which we haven't got to 
clear at all, and after ploughing I shall begin 
fencing, to begin to put in cotton in Spring. We 
plough with six oxen. I plough, and another man 
drives. Sometimes we come upon a root^ and all 
the chains crink as the oxen strain on them, but 
they generally burst it. The field is a mile and 
a-quarter from here, and it seems a long walk 
coming back at night after ploughing all day. . . . 
I sold nearly half my sheep the other day. They 
were a lot of sixty that I bought first. I bought 
a lot of a hundred afterwards that suited me better 
(I got Ss. per head for them, and paid ys. per head 
when I bought them); so now I have only the 
hundred ewes left, and they are doing very well. . . 
We have decorated our hut with pictures from 



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I06 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part III. " The Illustrated," &c., and with a huge map of Dec 1879 
"roots"^ America. I believe we know every name on the May, 1880. 
latter almost, as it's just at the head of the table, 
and we study it at supper time. . . . 

The Ranche, 

Feb. 3, 18S0. 

. . . What a dreadful accident that Tay Bridge 
seems to have been. We have just had a few days 
cold weather, the first since Christmas, but I think 
it is blowing off again now. . . . We have been 
feasting lately on a sort of gourd, which some of 
the farmers grow here. They are very good eating, 
are as large as one's head, with a thin neck. I 
hope to grow a good many this year. They are 
very easily raised, and keep through the winter. 
We had to stop ploughing for a few days, owing to 
the " Norther," but we are going at it again now 
for some days. . . . 

From the Doctor. 

The Ranche, 

Feb. 6, 1S80. 

... I went down to San Antonio on Gipsy last 
week, and spent nearly a day and a-half there, but 



THE DOCTORS EXPERIENCES. 107 

Part III. didn't enjoy myself so much as I might have done, Dec. 1879 
roots"^ as I had to see the dentist. He hves over a cigar May, 1880. 
shop, where two lawyers had a duel the other day. 
They emptied their revolvers at one another, and 
both were slightly wounded ; so they were fined 
15 a-piece ! We have just had the longest spell of 
cold weather that there has been this winter, and 
it has just been bowling stock over like ninepins. 
However, it is an ill wind that blows no one any 
good — the buzzards have got so fat they can hardly 
fly. ... I thought before I came out here, that 
black-woolled sheep belonged only to nursery 
rhymes, but we have got a black lamb in the flock 
now, which is coal-black all over (tongue and all), 
except the tip of it's tail. We have just got the 
paper with the pictures of Portia and Shylock in it, 
and Willy has pasted them up, one on each side 
of a young lady, who has a cannon fired off on her 
back in a circus. We have just got a collie dog 
for the sheep, and I have got to train it, but I 
expect I shall have rather a tough job, as it is 
rather frightened of the sheep. . . . We have got 
some wild flowers out already here and there. . . . 



r 



108 gone to texas. 

From Willy. 

The Ranche, 

Feb. 15, 1880. 

Part III. . . . We have been working like steam engines Dec. 1879 
rootT.^ lately, and things couldn't be going better to my May, 1880. 
mind than at present. Our general mode of pro- 
ceeding for the past month has been as follows : 
The Doctor takes sole care of the sheep, and a 
better shepherd I couldn't have if I went all over 
the world. The sheep look splendidly. An Eng- > \ 

lishman, at whose ranche, south of San Antonio, 
I stayed last year, visited us this day week on his 
way to his ranche, after a visit to England, and 
he said he only wished he could find his sheep 
looking as well as ours when he got to the ranche. 
Windale is housekeeper, and looks after the horses, 
and cows, and calves. To-day I have turned out 
of the pasture, with their mothers, the last seven 
or eight calves ; so now we shan't have any milk 
at all. We have two young bulls still in the 
pasture, and these we feed regularly, with the two 
English rams. The four English ewes run out- 
side the pasture, and all are doing first-rate. I 
have been working on the big field. For the last 
few days we have been seven strong. I plough, and 



Striking 
roots. 



RANCHE RECREATIONS. IO9 

Part III. another man drives the steers, two men grubbing Dec. 1879 

to 

out the bushes that are in the way, another man May, 1880. 
getting up stones for the rock fence, and two more 
cutting wood on contract. The land is in places 
very heavily timbered with live oak. I pay a man 
4-5". per cord for cutting up the wood, and I am 

going to cart it into B , where I can get 9^. 

for it. The wood does not hurt for keeping, so 
I am having it stacked up in cords to keep, as, 
if this year turns out well, wood will probably be 
again worth 10s. and us. per cord; but I am 
having it cut now, as labour is cheap. Of course, 
if the wood becomes worth 10s. again, cutting it 
will, with everything else, " go up," and probably 
cost 6s. or 7^-. We have been camping on the 
field. At the beginning of the week we put two 
yoke of steers to the wagon containing provisions, 
tools, &c., and one yoke to the water-cart (which 
holds 96 gallons), and march up to the field ; then 
on Saturday night we come down again. Some- 
times some of the "boys" from neighbouring 
ranches come up to the camp at night, and 
have games and wrestling, and play jokes on 
one another. 

On Friday night they took a green hand 
out "quail hunting." They all went into the 



r 



\ 



110 GOx\E TO TEXAS. 

Part III. bi'ush, about half-a-mile from camp, down the Dec 1879 
rootT.^ creek, and set him at the end of a trail or cattle- May, 1880. 
path, with an empty sack, which he had to keep 
open in front of him, to catch the quail which 
they were going to drive up the trail into it. 
After sundry questions from him, as to whether 
they would bite, what size and color they were, 
&c., they came back along the trail to "drive 
the quail " ; which consists of going back to the 
camp fire and waiting till the fellow with the 
sack has had enough of waiting. In half-an- 
hour or so the sackman was heard on the top of 
a neighbouring hill, about a mile from camp. 
From there he saw the camp fire, and struck 
out for it. 

Another game is " donkey-riding." — Two fellows 
are tied back to back, and a saddle is put on them 
and girthed, and then another fellow gets on the 
saddle, and they pitch and pitch until they pitch 
him off. 

Then there is " leg-wrestling." — Two fellows lie 
on their backs next each other, but the feet of 
one at the head of the other ; and each clutches 
the other one's shoulder with his inside hand ; 
then each lifts up his inside leg three times while 
they count, and the third time they lock their 



LEG WRESTLING. Ill 

Part III. legs, and one of them turns a sudden somersault Dec. 1879 
i-oot".^ backwards, and he is conquered ^. It is generally a May, 1880. 
very short combat unless they are evenly matched ; 
but one or the other, anyhow, ends in going heels 
over head backwards. 

I have opened the seeds, which are beautifully 
packed. Many thanks for them. The grass seeds 
I shall put in a spot in the pasture, but I hardly 
like to venture with the garden seeds, as my cotton 
field will take up all my time. Windale has the 
comfreys in hand, and is preparing beds for them. 
With regard to silkworms ; there are quantities of 
wild mulberries here, but it will be a long time 
before I can do anything in that line, I think, as 
there are such numberless paying things more 
immediately connected with the general ranche 
business. . . . We have every prospect of unusually 
good prices for our wool this year. 

From the Doctor. 

The Ranche, 

Feb. 25, 1880, 

. . . Dick arrived to-day, having lost his traps, 
watch, and ulster by the way ; but he looks very 

^ I am bound to say, though used to such matters from my youth 
up, that ' leg wrestling ' puzzles me. — Ed. 



112 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part III. well, and hopes that he will get the former back. Dec. 1879 

Strikinsf ^^ 

roots. I am as well as I can be, for herding agrees with May, 1880. 
me, and exercises me pretty regularly, too, if a 
pair of soles a month may be taken as evidence. 
. . . The sheep are rapidly recovering from the 
effects of the winter, and are beginning to look 
quite fat. There are two ewe lambs and a buck 
already, two of them Cotswolds, and one (I believe) 
an Oxford Down. There is plenty of water all 
down the creek, so I haven't to travel the sheep 
at all for it. One pool is so big that you can, if 
you try, swim six yards without touching bottom. 
. . . Your well ^ hasn't hauled dry since the rain ; 
but it was all but giving out last autumn for want 
of cleaning. 

From the Doctor to Madge. 

The Ranche, 

March i, 1880. 

The 29th has passed, and T haven^t been pro- 
posed to, so I feel my vanity very much injured. 
. . . Dick arrived last Wednesday. He and Willy 
have done no end of gardening to-day, putting in 
potatoes, seeds, &c. ... I am keeping a sort of 
diary now, but I am afraid it wouldn't interest 

^ My brother dug a well on his visit to the ranche. — Ed. 



THE doctor's doings. II3 



Part III. you much, as it is almost entirely taken up with Dec. 1879 
^'o^s"" notes on stock, such as, " Herded on right-hand May. 1880. 
hills— found Smike's lamb— saw a brown heifer, 
brand CHK— Poke brought bull over," &c., &c 



From the Doctor. 

March 18, 1880. 

. . . There are thirty lambs now ; and they give 
me a nice job hunting them up every day ; for 
they lie down all day under the bushes, and when- 
ever the flock moves away, I have to go round 
all the bushes and rout them out. I am quite 
a dab now at judging the time of day without the 
sun, for sometimes I don't see his face from the time 
I leave the pen till when I come back ; but I am 
seldom a quarter-of-an-hour wrong. I suppose it 
is from practice, for I never used to know the time 
in England. Dick has nearly got a carload of 
horses, almost all of which are "broken," and 

running in Capt. T 's pasture ; but a few are 

only "badly cracked," and are up at the ranche 
still. The rock fence round the new land is being 
fast built, as there are over six men at work on 
it, I believe, quarrying, hauling, and building. . . . 



r 



114 gone to texas. 

From Willy to his Father. 

The Ranche, 

March 21, 18 So. 

Part III. Dick will, as you propose, start for New York Dec 1879 
roots"^ about the ci2nd proximo. We've got all the horses May, 1880. 

now, including one racer, a mare, from D 's. . . . 

To come to an important question straight. I 
asked the Doctor the other day how he liked this ^ 

life, and whether he would like to stop, and go 
halves in the whole concern, and he evidently 
thinks it would be just the thing he would like. 
He said, " Well, up to the present this life has been 
exceedingly fascinating, but of course I must ask 
father before giving any answer ; and I think I 
would rather wait till I see him, if you don't mind, 
instead of writing about it." I fancy from the 
interest he takes in everything, that it would suit 
him internally and ex-ditto better than sweating 
in a city ; and as to his health, it couldn't be 

better. I can't palaver like K and Co., but 

those are the main facts, and we can study the 
question further when you are down here. On the 
29th inst. I shall have been here a year, and I 
fancy a small change may be noticed, if one looks 
closely enough. By the way, Dick says that 



A YOUNG HORSE BREAKER. Il5 

Part III. M^N used to can tomatoes in Virginia very Dec 1879 

roots." Simply, but used to keep it dark, and make good May, 1880. 
cash at it. If you know anyone in a canning 
business, could you get the main points, as to the 
length of time boiling, whether put into cans hot 
or cold, and whether they get all air-tight before 
soldering the last hole, &c. I hope Dick makes 
a good thing of the horse business this time ; if so, 
I'm going to invest in a few promising young 
horses, to hold till they mature. . . . 

The Ranche, 

March 28, 1880. 

. . . All the horses are doing well ; Dick says 
they are a much better lot than last. Windale 
is becoming a very good rider ; he has plenty of 
pluck. On the 22nd inst. we began to break a big 
four-year-old horse. He broke easily, and Windale 

rode into B for mail on him on the 26th. 

Coming out, his love of news got the better of his 
discretion, so, dropping the reins on the neck of 
the mustang of five days' riding, he took out the 
Illustrated, and began reading ; and so off went the 
horse pitching a la mode with head down, and over 
his head went Master Windale. He followed him 
for a mile or so, and caught him, but led him 

I 2 



r 



Il5 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part III. back! He "went for" that horse, though, on re- Dec. 1879 

Striking to 

roots, turning. He put a " bucking stick" on the saddle. May, 1880. 
and got on and raced round the field, and the horse 
couldn't get him off again. The bucking stick is 
about two feet long, and tied across the horn of 
the saddle, just above your legs, and it's next to 
impossible for a horse to buck you out. . . . 



From the Doctor to Madge. 

March 31, 1880. 

.... I had a regular spree on my birthday ; 
for Willy took the sheep for a day and a half 
on purpose that I should. Dick and I started 
for the Guadaloupe at 3 p.m. on Saturday on 
horseback, and we just reached it by sun-down, 
and camped out : all Sunday we were fishing, 
and camped out again, and started at about i a. m. 
on Monday, and reached home before sun-up. 
Since then we have had two very moist days, 
which have done the grass a heap of good, but 
which I can't say I appreciate as I ought, for 
they don't make me grow however wet I get. 
I never catch cold though, so I don't mind them 
much. . . . We have got sixty lambs in the flock 
now, and shall probably have nearly eighty, which 



THE doctor's recreations. ii7 

Part III. is a vcry good percentage. When Dick and I were Dec^j879 
^roo^r.^ fishing we caught some cat-fish, perch, and some- May, 1880. 
thing else, and we had only one rod and reel 
between us. . . . Birds haven't begun to build 
yet, but I expect they will as soon as the foliage 
o-ets a bit thicker. I am soon going to preempt 
eighty acres. . . . 

From the Doctor to his Grandmother. 

April 14, 1880. 

.... I have begun leaving the flock, and 
during the day am engaged digging rock for 
a stone pen, but at present I have to go up once 
a day to see that the sheep are all right, and 
it splits my work up very much. By the way, 
I received quite an insult from a man yesterday. 
He told me he "didn't do much herding — /le 
was always af work!" Happily for him he is 
only half-witted, or I might have slaughtered 
him ! . . . I thought I had found a nice scorpion 
to send home, but it was unfortunately alive, so 
I squashed it. Dick has commenced shearing, 
but the shears gave out after the first ewe, so 
we are going to get a new pair to-morrow. 



r 



ii8 



GONE TO TEXAS. 



Part III. 

Striking 
roots. 



April 23, 1880, 

The sheep herd themselves now, and when I Dec 1879 

to 

go after them I nearly always find them in a May, 1880. 
bunch facing homewards ; so I hope that soon 
it will not be necessary to bring them home at 
all. ... I have forgotten some of my sheep since 
they have been shorn^ but I remember most of 
them in spite of their scare-crowish appearance. 
. . . Wool has risen immensely this year (over 
10 cents a pound), and the sheep will probably 
shear 2J lbs. all round at least. There are over 
seventy lambs now, but I have lost count, and 
can't pick it up again, for you might as well 
try to count a flight of birds as a bunch of 
lambs. . . . 

From Willy. 

The Ranche, 

April 25, 1880. 

. . . Dick left for New York a week ago with 
the horses. There were twenty-one splendid little 
animals. Most of them he tamed here himself. 
We have been shearing at odd intervals lately, 
and have only about thirty more to shear. The 
main work has been on the cotton-field. We 
are now preparing for planting. . . . Two of the 
English ewes have lambed twins, a third has 



BEES AND HUMMING BIRDS. II9 

PART III. lambed one, and a fourth will lamb shortly, I Dec.jSyg 
Sinking ^j^j^i^^ ^ ^ ^ To-day, as we were ploughing, a ^^^^y- ^^so. 
swarm of bees flew across the field and came 
all round the Doctor and myself. I thought 
they were going to settle on us, but they buzzed 
around and then went off. I followed them, but 

couldn't keep up with them This spring 

seems entirely different from the last one, which 
was so unusually dry. Now everything looks 
green and nice. A lot of humming birds are 
up in. the valley behind the field, but I have 
never seen their nests. They feed on the honey- 
suckle. I never saw any live ones before this 

spring. 

To THE Editor. 

The Ranche, 

May I, 1880. 

Dear Uncle, 

As there is such a thing as scab 

amongst sheep here, and it is pretty common, I 

didn't like to whistle till I was out of the wood, 

and so didn't write about the favorable condition 

of the flock before. I'm now glad to be able to 

tell you that our sheep are perfectly healthy, and 

doing well. We are nearly through with shearing, 

and in a few days I hope to take the wool down to 

San Antonio. Our lambs, which are from the 



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120 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part III. English rams, are unusually fine, and as the climate Dec. 1879 
roots!^ seems to suit the thoroughbreds admirably, and as May, 1880. 
they grow much heavier fleeces, and the wool is as 
valuable as that which is at present grown in the 
country, I have decided to go on with the breed, 
and hope to make a big thing of it. I have had 
several applications for half-bred rams, and I hope 
to be able to sell a few next tupping season. . . . 
I started without experience, and without anyone 9 

to give me any very reliable advice. As it was, of 
course I made a few mistakes at starting ; though 
now I feel as if I'd been in the business all my life. 
... I am going to divide my business here into 
different departments. The Doctor is, and has been, 
boss of sheep department. Windale is starting a 
market-garden, in which he is to have shares. I 
am going to take the farming department on the 
Schultz land, which is the best and prettiest piece 
of land round here. This, with superintending the 
other departments, will take up all my time. I am, 
pro tern, (and it may lead to be permanent), in the 
horse business with Dick, who has just gone up to 
New York with a carload of horses, which he has 
been breaking at the ranche, since he returned from 
taking up the last carload. ... It is a profitable 
business if carefully attended to. 



LOOKING AT CATTLE RAISING. 121 

Part III. Do you know of one or two fellows with Dec. 1879 



Striking 
roots. 



^250 or SO between them, who would like to May, i 
go into the stock business here, in a small way? 
As I said, I want to take up farming properly; 
and, if I could get some fellows to run cattle 
here, would give up this ranche and range, and 
put up another shanty for the Doctor, Win- 
dale, and myself, on the Schultz field. There is 
a good shanty here, including bed-room, kitchen, 
and store-room, with large bins, &c., a fifty-acre 
pasture, and a field in which to raise horse feed, 
vegetables for own consumption, &c.^ and a good 
well. I have invested about $1100 in the whole 
place, including range of 1440 acres ; and I want 
some one to put about the same amount into stock 
(about 100 odd head), of cows with calves, and 
heifers, I taking a quarter of the increase, and he 
doing the main work of attending to the stock. • 
Yearling heifers, which as a rule begin calving at 
three years old, cost $5 ; two-year-olds $ 7 50 cents; 
three-year-olds (without calves) $9 ; and young 
cows (with calves) $12 to ^14. There is always a 
ready sale for yearling oxen at $5 50 cents (this year 
as high as $6 has been paid), and when a cow gets 
old, she is allowed to fatten, and fetches $ 10 to $ 12 ; 
and as we are near a town, there is always a market 



122 GONE TO TEXAS. 



Part III. for such. It IS a very good opening for a couple of Dec. 1879 
roots!^ fellows who mean busmess. I said ;^25o or so, as May, 1880. 
this would be the smallest it would be worth any 
one's while to invest with any expectation of good 
returns ; but there is plenty of room here for stock, 
if the amount invested were twice the size, or even 
larger ; as, besides my own range, there are over 
6400 acres held by the State at half-a-dollar per 
acre, for the School funds, and this land will not be 
sold for many years to come. 

The Doctor to Madge. 

May 2, 1S80. 

. . . We have been planting cotton, and I have 
been helping plough the furrows for planting in. 
But I was hunting sheep all Tuesday, as they got 
away on Monday night, and yesterday and to-day 
I have been shearing. I got through six to-day, 
but it was quite as much as I could do, as I was 
shearing hard for about six hours without a break, 
except to catch the sheep and fold the fleeces. 
The cotton is all planted at last, and the rock 
fence nearly completed. ... I tried to hunt Gipsy 
up the other day on my new mare, but she and the 
pony she is running with were too wild, and I had 



THE doctor's mare. 1 23 

Part III. to give in. I like my new mare better every day, Dec.^iSyg 
Striking ^g gi^g jg gQ gentle and willing, and stops round so May. 1880. 
well. All I have to do when I want her, is to go 
out of the house and listen for her bell ; then go up 
and hook my belt into her bell-strap, climb up, and 
ride home. With other horses, you have first to 
search a long while, and then put a rope round 
their necks, and lead them or drive them. . . . 
There are just crowds of wild flowers out all over 
the hills, which look better than many cultivated 
ones in a garden ; especially some white ones with 
five petals, which grow quite thick. I want to get 
some clothes mended to-night, as we are going 
surveying to-morrow. 

From the Doctor. 

May 15, 18S0. 

... I can do a good lot of work during the day 
now, as I have 8| hours to leave the sheep in. 
I have just finished shearing the four Oxford 
Down ewes, and they are so strong that when 
they kick it takes two of us to hold them. The 
sheep are almost entirely in my hands now, so 
I begin to feel myself growing heavier, though 
whether it is from responsibility or extra flesh 
I can't say. Willy is breaking up some more 



A 



124 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part III. land, to plant sugar-cane in, so that we may grow Dec. 1879 
roots'.^ our own molasses this year. I believe the real May, 1880. 
reason we appreciate "treacle" so much more here 
than in England is, that here we have no butter 
or jam, and very little sugar, and it acts for all 
three. ... It is extraordinary how much time some 
people find on their hands out here, for I cannot 
remember a day (except Sundays) for ever so long, 
that there was not something to be done, which 
had been kept waiting too long already. At 
present, I have got fully two months' work cut 
out for me; for there are still sixteen sheep to 
shear, the pen to quarry and build, the pit for the 
dipping vat to dig, the mare to hunt up, 8zc., &c. ; 
but the more the better, as I never do more than 
enough in a day, and don't have to worry my head 
to keep my hands employed. The five thorough- 
bred Oxford Down lambs are going on well, and 
growing fast, and the black lamb is so big that I 
put the bell on him this evening. 

From Willy. 

Same date. 

I would rather not have any books out yet, as 
they would get so dirty in our hut. As soon as 
I can afford to put up a small house I should very 



THE RANCHE MAN'S LIKENESS. 



125 



PART III. much like to have the books out ; but I don't want Dec 1879 
Striking |.Q get them spoilt before that. ^^V' ^^so. 

roots. ^ ^ 



From Willy to Madge. 

San Antonio, 

Col. L , his office, 

May 25, t88o. 

Col. L wants to know if you don't think the 

enclosed ^ is a good likeness of me ! You want a 
photo of me, so I let him send it, especially as he 
says he'll pay the postage, and so make me one 

letter ahead. Col. L says he wants you to 

let him inow if it is like me as I was when I left 
England. I think you will agree with me that 
it exactly resembles the photo I had taken just 
before I left! 

From Willy to his Grandmother. 

The Ranche, 

May 27, 1880. 

I am so glad to see by the heading of your 
letter that you are away from smoky London for 
a bit, and to hear that you are going down to 
L this summer. . . . Many thanks for your 

* A caricature of Col. L 's, showing the change effected in 

personal appearance by twenty months of ranche life. 



r 



126 



GONE TO TEXAS. 



Striking 
roots. 



Part III. good Wishes, apropos of my coming of age. Father Dec 1879 

to 

won't be here on the 29th, his birthday, as the May, 1880. 
horses are not all sold ; but I expect him and 
Dick early in June. Everything here is flourish- 
ing. I have just returned from San Antonio, 
where I have been with my wool. I have stored 
it there, to sell in a week or two, when I expect 
prices will be higher. All the crops are coming on 
splendidly, and everything promises to be exactly 
the reverse of last year. . . . Our bees are working 
like anything. My best hive is a box about twenty- 
eight inches high by fourteen inches square, and the 
upper six inches inside has a floor with two holes 
in it, and above each hole is a super. The two 
exactly fill the top of the hive above the floor, and 
have glass windows, as also has the lower part of 
the hive, so one can see the bees working. Both 
supers are filled with comb already, and are being 
filled with honey very fast. Bees are very plenti- 
ful out here, in hollow trees and holes in bluff's ; 
and the farmers' sons are very fond of cutting 
them out and hiving them, when they find them. 
This year they will do splendidly, but last year 
the extraordinary drought killed nearly all the 
hived bees. One neighbour of ours had thirty-six 
hives, and all were killed but four ! . . . You can't 



A TEXAN SHOWER. I 27 

Part III. conceive the quantity of wool there is now in San Dec. 1879 

^roots"^ Antonio. All the storehouses are almost cram May, 1880. 

full, and the marketplaces are daily full of wagon 

loads just arrived ; and the roads into town are lined 

with wagons-full. My love to Madge, and ask 

her if she got that photo, which Col. L (Jem's 

friend) of San Antonio gave me. He is always 
fond of his ^' little joke," and is a very jolly fellow. 

I hope Chico managed to get a few days at L 

with you. 

P.S. Many thanks for "Good Words," which 
come regularly, and are very welcome. 

From the Doctor to Madge. 

.... Ranche, 

May 28, 1880. 

. . . Yesterday was very hot, and everything was 
quite dry ; but last night we had a " little shower," 
which had a rather curious effect ; for at 8 a.m. this 
morning the pump by the creek was disconnected 
from both banks, a barrel and tub were half-way 

to B , and the water-wagon was careering 

gaily down the stream, while a nice little rivulet 
trickled out at our front door. This is the 
heaviest fall of rain there has been since Willy 
came out. 



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128 GONE TO TEXAS. 



May 30, 1880. 



Part III. We had another good shower last night, and the Dec 1879 



to 



rootT.^ creek is still running hard, though the water is May, i^ 
very shallow in most places. I bathed in the 
deep pool to-day, and had a splendid dive and 
swim, as the water in one place is half-way up my 
chest, and all the weeds that used to grow on the 
bottom have been torn away. Our tub was heard 
of to-day, about six miles down the creek, but we 
don't know where the barrel is yet. I saw Gypsy 
the other day, running with a bunch of mares. 
She has got her winter coat off, and looks in very 
good condition ; so as soon as possible I will get 
her up and give my sorrel mare (Polly) a rest, of 
which she stands rather in need. Our best cow, 
Gruble, has calved again, so we have plenty of milk 
for coffee, &c., though of course none to skim. 



PART IV. 

WILLY'S AND THE DOCTOR'S 
LETTERS. 



GAINING GROUND. 



K 



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INTRODUCTORY. 



Part IV. I WAS unable to leave my New York business for the Feb. to 

Gaining proposed trip with Dick to the ranche, and he found ^^^- ^^^^• 
ground. 

work in New York, which he preferred to breaking and 

"shipping" mustangs. In August, 1880, important busi- 
ness took me to Tennessee, and detained me there most 
of the time for more than a year. In June it had been 
settled by correspondence that the Dr. should stick to the 
ranche, instead of coming up to New York to study medi- 
cine. In December, 1880, Willy came at my desire to 
prospect in Tennessee, but found that part of it which 
he saw unsuited for sheep-raising, which branch of his 
business had gradually become by far the most important. 
He had given up the plan of starting a store for the sale 

of vegetables in B , and had found some other plans, 

referred to in his early letters, also impracticable. Here 
I ought to mention that the letters do not show the main 
troubles and disappointments met with, such as the failure 
of the cotton crop, death of thoroughbred lambs, &c., all 
of which were kept to themselves by the boys, lest they 
(the letters) should give a gloomier impression of life and 
prospects in that part of Texas than would be justified 
I by facts. The letters were all written to near relatives 

' of the boys, who were of course anxious about them, and 

i 

K 2 



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132 



GONE TO TEXAS. 



Part IV. it was natural therefore that they should make light of 

Gaining whatever might from time to time be troubling them. In 
ground, . , 

making the extracts I have purposely omitted anything 

referring to the " profit and loss account," my object being 

to retain only such parts as show what everyday life is 

like on a ranche in Texas, such as theirs ; but it will 

be sufficiently apparent that they have in the main 

" got on."— W. H. 



Feb. to 
Dec. 1881, 



The Doctor to his father in Tennessee. 



The Ranche, 

Feb. 18, 1881. 

... I don't know whether Willy is likely to go 
up again to Tennessee to prospect, even if we do 
sell the ranche, as he seems to think he has seen 
all the different kinds of land. . . . We have had 
very little bad weather for a long time now, and 
have not lost any of the new flock yet, but it has 
been touch-and-go with a couple of them. One 
got upside down for twenty-four hours, but is re- 
covering, though she is as weak as water. Another 
got a severe attack of constipation, and I was 
hunting her till 10.30 p.m. last Wednesday, in the 
rain, but couldn't find her, as she was two miles 
from the pen, and it was impossible to see more 
than fifty yards ; but we got her home yesterday, 



THE shepherd's JOTTINGS BY THE WAY. 133 
Part IV. and I think she will recover, as she managed to Feb. to 

Gaining . ^^^' ^^^^ 

ground? ^^^ somc soHd food this morning. Willy has 
bought a lot of hay in case we should have any 
severe northers ; for '' experientia docet^" we lost 
half a-dozen lambs at least last year, through 
having to turn out the flock in a severe norther. 
The buck lamb, born before Christmas, has already 
grown horns an inch and a-half in length! Don't 
you pity his mother? We had one ewe which 
allowed another lamb besides her own to suck her, 
and, in consequence, her own lamb nearly died of 
starvation before we found out what was the 
matter ; but the little beggar has picked up since, 
and has a belly like a balloon. That darkle Jeff 
is still herding, as our Mexican isn't back yet, and 
he (Jeff) lost himself in the hills yesterday, and 
didn't get back till an hour after sun-down, and I 
had to count the sheep by the light of a lamp, as 
it was pitch dark. We found a dead deer the 
other day, in the big hole by the Schultz field. 
It had died of starvation, as it was impossible for 
anything to climb out, if it once has the mis- 
fortune to get in. I nearly slipped into the hole 
once, while trying to get an old toad out on the 
end of a stick. 



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134 GONE TO TEXAS. 



Feb. 23, 1 88 1. 



Part IV. ... You must keep that newspaper in swing, as Feb. to 
ground^ I've got a bet on the June number, which Willy 
says will never appear. Such is my faith in your 
resources that I have bet my colt against Fox, that 
the paper will continue to flourish for four more 
months ! ! ! Nozv you can't say there's no veneration 
in your family ! How are you getting along though 
really? Shall you be able to give us a sight of 
your blessed old face this Spring, or is ... ? The 
lambs will be dropping next week, so this is 
probably my last letter for a good long while. 
One of our ewes has a bag as big as a cow's (no 
humbug), and I expect we shall be able to rear 
two or three lambs on her if necessary, as she is 
very gentle. I have had rather a long ride to-day, 
and have already written one long letter, so ex- 
cuse this half sheet. 



Willy to his Father in Tennessee. 

The Ranche, 

Feb. 23, i88r. 

Dear old Gov. 

We are having the most glorious 
weather imaginable, in our shirt-sleeves from 



A PROMISING SPRING. 1 35 

Part IV. before sunrise to when we go to bed ; but during Feb. to 
grouncL the day a delicious south wind. The new grass 
has started up three inches, and Spring has evi- 
dently set in for good, bar occasional frost 
probably. Our oats are doing well^ and we set 
out several fruit-trees the other day, and all our 
early vegetable seeds are in. The comfreys are 
doing splendidly, and we are going to plant out 
a pretty big patch. Sheep are all doing first- 
rate and getting awfully heavy. We have occa- 
sional bathes in the creek, which runs as hard as 
ever. I am glad you are thinking of giving us 
a look up. . . . 



Willy to his Grandmother in England. 

The Ranch e, 

March 7, 1881. 

. . . The first Spring I was here was the drought, 
when nobody raised anything, which was dis- 
couraging. Last year we did fairly for our first 
year of farming and sheep; but this year finds 
us well ahead of our business. Our sheep couldn't 
be doing better; last year's experience in the 
lambing season taught us what it was necessary 
to have for the proper management of the lambs. 



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136 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part IV. These are dropping^ like hail now (eiofht to-day !), Feb. to 

G ini CT ^^ ^ V t' -^ /' Dec. 1881. 

ground^ and they are at once drafted off into the pasture, 
where they remain for a few days till the ewes 
"take" properly to them. Each lamb is marked 
with a red spot or line on a part of its body, and 
the ewe marked in the same way, so that we 
know exactly which lamb belongs to which ewe ; 
and a record is kept of the date the lamb is born, 
and of its mark, so as to know when it can with 
safety be allowed to run with the flock. When 
a few days old, and the ewe has taken properly 
to the lamb, they are turned into the field, where 
the oats are coming up splendidly ; this brings 
a flush of milk on the ewe, and gives the lamb 
a good start. The last lamb born to-day made 
our fiftieth. . . . We have about four acres of oats 
as I told you, growing well ; and two days ago 
I put in about an acre of corn, and to-day I 
hauled up the "camp tricks" to the tent at the 
Schultz field, as I am going to camp up there 
and plough up for corn. Our spring onions are 
coming up splendidly ; and this morning I put 
in our seed sweet potatoes, from which grow the 
vines which are planted out later on — the vines 
"produce" the potatoes, so to speak. I have 
a seed-bed with beets, cabbages, lettuces, squashes, 



A PROMISING SPRING. 137 

Part IV. and caullflowers In it, and some of them are begin- Feb. to 

Dec. 1881. 

Sound" ^^^S to come up ; and I have a bed of very early corn 
in, and I expect we shall be the first round here 
to have roasting ears ; and my ground for beans, 
melons, tomatoes, &c., is all ploughed, and ready 
to be planted, as soon as Spring has regularly set 
in, at least as soon as all chance of cold is gone, 
for Spring has set in some time ; the grass is 
growing up green, and the wild flowers and bushes 
are all opening, and the nights are getting quite 
warm. We planted out sixteen fruit-trees, apples 
and peaches, and they are all doing well ; and 
the comfreys have been green for weeks, and we 
are planting out a large patch of them this Spring. 
You have no idea how useful they are in case of 
a sick ewe. I forget whether I told you that 
the grass seeds did not come to anything, but 
that the clover is all coming up, and looking 
well ; I think it is going to prove a very valu- 
able addition to the herbage here. We planted 
it on about half-an-acre in the pasture, and 
have fenced off a little patch to keep off the 
sheep and calves, and let it run to seed. We 
are still getting plenty of milk from old Gentle, 
and within a few weeks w^e shall have more 
milk than we shall know what to do with, unless 



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138 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part IV. we get a pig, as we have several good cows going Feb. to 

„ . . Dec. 1881 

^^'^'"/ to calve. 

ground. 

The English ewes begin to lamb the day after 
to-morrow, and Flora, the collie that Mr. Hewitt 
sent me, pups to-morow, and we have two hens 
hard at work setting, and the whole boiling of 
them are cackling and laying, so we are increasing 
to a great extent. And lastly, I forgot old Molly, 
the mare, she has gone off to her old range per- 
paratory to foaling ; and another mare of ours, 

who runs between here and B , is also going to 

have a foal. Oh ! and then the cat ; she's going 
to have kittens. I think I've told you about 
everything now. 

We have all had a fit of letter-writing to-night ; 
at this time of year I'm afraid we neglect it a good 
deal. From daylight to late at night we are kept 
" a>-going," I assure you : first it's cooking break- 
fast and milking, and separating newly-born lambs 
and their ewes from the flock, then turning out 
the flock and drafting the older lambs with their 
ewes into the field, and holding refractory ewes 
for the lambs to suck ; then there's ploughing 
or planting all day ; then the flock comes in, and 
more new lambs to " fix," and more suckling and 
feeding ; then supper to cook and washing-up to 



THEIR SISTER COMING. 139 

Part IV. do, and by the time one has finished supper, one Feb. to 

Gainino- r T^^QC. 1881. 

ground! ^^^^^ ^^ though one could fall to sleep at the 
table. It's glorious fun though ; and we enjoy 
the life immensely. I have to shave now ! It is 
my Sunday morning's job generally. The Doctor 
is just off (11 p.m.) to his tent by the sheep-pen, 
where he has his cot, and sleeps every night now. 
You've no idea how well he is looking ; you would 
hardly know him. 

The Ranche, 

March 17, 1881. 

. . . The collie has pupped ; she only had two 
puppies, but they are doing well. All the country 
is green now, and the grass is everywhere splendid, 
and the creeks here and at the Schultz field run- 
ning hard. 



Willy to Madge in Tennessee. 

The Ranche, 

May 23, i88r. 

I suppose you will get to Tennessee before this 
letter. I hope you and Granny will have had 
a jolly journey. Thanks for your long letter 

from O . I think that as you say you shall 

come down here if Doctor and I don't go up 



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140 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part IV. there to see you, we shall just sit still and let Feb. to 

Gainino- ^ec. 1881. 

ground! you come ; less trouble, you know. 



The Doctor to Madge in Tennessee. 

The Ranche, 

Sunday, June 5, 1881. 

I suppose that you have by this time got settled 
down a bit in your new house. I hope you ap- 
preciate the wood fires, and wooden fences and 
houses, which are far better than coals and bricks. 
. . . The flock is in the Schultz field to-day, and 
I am down at the house baking, as we find that 
we can bake better bread in a stove than in a 
skillet. I presume you have everything hand- 
some in the "^ stove and cooking tricks^' line, 
and have not had to bake in a skillet, nor fry 
your bacon on a toasting-fork, nor even been 
reduced to boiling your eggs in the coffee ? . . . 
All our cows have calved now, including Gentle 
(the cow we were milking till March). Our cats 
are not so fat as they used to be, so we are 
obliged to feed them two or three times a week. 
You should just see them after being fed on 
beef! The flock is beginning to look fat again, 
and the lambs are so big that I have to count 



THE DOCTOR PHOTOGRAPHING. 141 

Part IV. them all toeether now, or I should make mis- Feb. to 

. *=* ^ Dec. 1881 

c^round^ takes. My red mare will be just the animal for 
you to ride when you come down to visit us, as 
she is "gentle as a dawg," and both fast and 
sure-footed. I rode eighty miles on her in two 
days last week, but she played out after seventy 
miles of it ; and it must have been 11 p.m. before 
I reached camp. Next day I kept losing the 
sheep all the morning by dropping off to sleep 
unawares. . . . 

The Ranche, 

June 30, 1 881. 

. . . Are you going to set up by yourself when 
you have bought your piece of land, or are you 
only going to buy it as a speculation.^ I have 
the right to preempt 80 acres of State land for 
nothing ; but I have not done so yet, as I cannot 
do it twice, and I may find a piece some day 
which cannot be got in any other way, except 
by buying it at a dollar an acre. I took a photo 
of the ranche last Sunday, and I am going to 
mettle up and get some papers prepared for taking 
positives next Sunday. If I succeed I'll send you 
one. All the stock are doing well^ and so are 
your affectionate brothers ; but we are dreadfully 



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142 GONE TO TEXAS. , 

Part IV. in want of rain. A watery new moon has just Feb. to 

. ^ •' Dec. 1881. 

ground come, SO I expect there will be a big storm in 
a day or two, and I keep one eye on the sky, 
and the other on my macintosh to be ready 
for it. . . . 

Note. — About this time Willy sold his original ranche, 
and he and the Doctor went into camp within the rock- 
fenced 60-acre pasture, " the Schultz field " (which had been 
planted in part with cotton in 1880), in the centre of their 
new purchase. Here they pitched their two tents, and put 
up sheds, &c. for the sheep. Lenny Windale had left them, 

and his place had been taken by C , a young Pennsyl- 

vanian, who went to them to learn the sheep business. 



The Doctor to Madge in Tennessee. 

Central Hotel, San Antonio, 
July 12, 1881. 

... So I must wait till 8.30 a.m. to-morrow. 
I rode down on Billy, and when I reached town 
I led him under the shed, and, forgetting how 
tall he was, I tried to lead him out the other 
side, which is rather low ; the horn of the saddle 
caught in the beam supporting the rafters, old 
Billy got scared, and put his weight into it, and 
sent the beam flying out against my forehead. 
It was a 4 in. by 2 in. and 14 feet long, so the 
wondet is it didn't hurt me. As it was, it just 



THE DOCTOR DISPORTING HIMSELF. 1 43 
Part IV. broke the skin for about half an inch ; but it Feb. to 

(-••„. Dec. 1881. 

ground? scared a lot of " colored ladies " at the other end 
of the yard, and they came running down with 
a bucket and rags, and insisted on mopping up 
my face. The roof supports itself now, as I have 
broken away the only beam that held it up, and 
can't put it up again without help. I have pur- 
chased a lot more paper for positives, and a few 
requisite bottles, and shall go to work with re- 
newed vigor next Sunday. Everything on the 
ranche is doing well, and I am here more for 
pleasure than business, though of course I shall 
get a lot of things now I am here. If there is 
any particular thing (bar live stock) that you 
would like a picture of, write to me, and I'll see 
if I can take it. . . . 



From Willy to Madge. 

The Ranche, 

July 14, 1 881. 

. . . Have you got your donkey or mule 
yet ? Thunder ! It would be as good as a circus 
to see you prancing about on a sprightly pie- 
balled mule ; tail cut short, likewise mane ; none 
of your lanky good-for-nothing mules, but a fat, 



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144 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part IV. chirpy chap, ready at a nioment's notice to seize Feb. to 
^-oun"cL the bit in his teeth, and "git" from one end of 
the avenue to the other before the unsuspecting 
rider knew he had started ; one that would take 
offence at a neighbouring fence, and kick the last 
paling of it into sawdust ; then throw his ears back 
somewhere in the neighbourhood of the tip of his 
tail, and chaw down the nearest pine-tree. Ad- 
mission free ; children in arms half-price ! The 
Gov. says that you say there are several things 
the Doctor asked about, packed away in the 
various packages, otherwise I would not summon 
up courage to ask if that small scrap-book of mine 
(blue, I believe) is still in the land of the living. . . . 

The Doctor to his Father in Tennessee. 

The Ranche, 

Sept. 4, 1881. 

... I am shearing some of the lambs just 
to see how they get on ; for it is a very general 
theory that shearing twice a year is better for 
sheep. I suppose they never take a "full clip" 
so far north as Tennessee, as the winter must set 
in before they could grow enough wool? . . . We 
shall have to work like blazes for the next week 



EXPERIMENTS IN SHEARING. 1 45 

Part IV. or two, as we have to finish the fence down the Feb. to 
ground^ middle of the pasture, and several other jobs, 
before the middle of this month, and the one who 
happens to be herding cannot do much with his 
spare time, as he has to keep in sight the flock 
even while they are lying down. I take out a 
piece of canvas with me, and shear a lamb or two 
while they lie down, but that is all. A lamb looks 
awfully queer and angular after shearing, but he 
feels better. . . 



The Doctor to Madge. 

The Ranche, 

Sept. 9, i88r. 

... So I hope that by the time this letter reaches 
you, you will be able to read to yourself. . . . While 
I was herding to-day, a big shower came down, 
and I took shelter in a hollow tree ; but unfortu- 
nately for me, it had a small opening on the rainy 
side, and a small lake began to creep gradually 
in along the floor of my house. For about ten 
minutes I kept it out by making a dam of the 
loose earth that lay inside the tree, but at last my 
materials gave out, and the dam broke, so I had 
to stand in two inches of water till the rain stopped. 

L 



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14^ GONE TO TEXAS. ; 

Part IV. ... Our division fence is stretching gradually down Feb. to 

Gaining- ■, Dec. 1881. 

ground! the pasture, but as yet we have not put any boards 
on. Willy and I made the water-gate two days 
ago, and as there was a tree on only one side of 
the creek, I had to cut a forked post for the other. | 

The tree I cut down to make the post of was 
unfortunately so bound up with another one, that, 
although I cut it clear through, it refused to fall, 
and I had to cut down the other as well ; and as 
the other was a dead pecan, very thick and as hard 
as rocks, I had a very tough job. When I got my 
post cut loose, we found it too heavy to haul, so 
I caught my mare, put the rope round the horn 
of the saddle, and made her pull it for me, while 
I kept the rope from cutting her back. . . . When 
you come down here you will have to take up the 
photography business, as I really believe I never 
shall have time to go in for it much. You can 
have " the whole bag of tricks," if you find you 
can manage to work them, though I am afraid I 
shall be a very poor master. i 

The Ranche, j 

Sept. 22, 1S81. i 

. . . Our fence is more than half done now, 
although there are no boards up, for the post- 
setting is far the worst job. On Tuesday we went 



ROUGH SURVEYING. 147 

Part IV. out surveying our new land, and had a good lot Feb. to 

Gaining r 11 • ^1 1 ,. 1 ^ . Dec. i88i 

ground, ot walking to do, and not a little of it was pretty- 
tough, as one has to go straight through every- 
thing that comes in one's way. Once we came to 
a bluff and had to go round, and just guess at the 
distance, for, as we were only surveying an old tract, 
it didn't matter if we were 30 or 40 feet out, so 
long as we found the corners and went straight. We 
had an awful lot of trouble finding the corners, as 
many of them were in the brushy and several of 
them had been destroyed ; however, we found the 
trees (they always "blaze" the nearest tree to 
a corner), so we made new ones. Father has 
written to say that he still intends to come down 
"some time" this Fall. I don't believe he will 
come at all if he doesn't make up his mind to 

come soon, for winter is not far off now 

We are labelling some of our ewes now, and 
they (the labels) look quite neat, and don't appear 
to rust at all. Our shorn lambs are growing 
wool very fast, and eat so much, that they are 
broader than they are deep; in fact I am afraid 
lest some member of the "Bergh" society will 
have us up for " overloading " them ! . . . . 



L 2 



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14^ gone to texas. 

Willy to Madge. 

The Ranche, 

Sept. 22, 1881. 

Part IV. .... I have just been, for some days past, Feb. to 
ground^ blistering up my hands like anything, digging post 
holes for our new fence ; but we have nearly 
finished it now. I hope the Governor will bring 
you down here this Fall, as he says he may be 
able to, and that you will be strong enough to 
get lots of riding here. 

The Doctor to Madge. 

\ The Ranche, 

; Oct. 2, 1881. 

.... We are making preparations for winter 
by* buying feed now, and I believe we shall 
soon erect a sheep-shed. We have already got 
all the fodder and hay we shall need, but have 
not got any cotton-seed yet. . . . The acorns 
are falling thick and fast now, and the sheep 
are very troublesome when they get among them, 
as they are so eager about picking them up that 
they don't look where they are going, and get 
scattered. I opened an acorn to-day which had 



PREPARING FOR WINTER. 149 

Part IV. eight separate kernels ! I never found one with ^^^^^g^^^ 
groS more than three before, so I expect it is not 

common, and I almost wish I hadn't pitched it 

away. 

Willy to Madge. 

San Antonio, 

Oct. II, iS8i. 

.... I hope you have quite recovered now, 
and are getting lots of riding and other exercise. 
... I am now down in San Antonio, buying 
such little winter clothing and sheep-shed material 
as we shall need for winter, as we may get some 
cold weather this month, although it doesn't 
generally come till November. 

The Doctor to his Father in Tennessee. 

The Ranche, 

Oct. 14, 1881. 

.... I am glad to hear that Madge is getting 
so strong and heavy, though 93 lbs. seems awfully 
light. I am beginning to put on my winter coat 
of flesh, though I haven't weighed myself lately. 
I measured myself the other day and found that 
I was 5 ft. 9 ins., which is about what I expected. 
We are all thriving, and so are the stock. Rain 



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Dec. 



150 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part IV. has been so plentiful that the screw-worms have Feb. to 
^tound S^^ i^^^ °^^ ^^ ^^^ head of stock, but nothing 
much, and they are soon going to disappear for 
the winter. . . . C seems to like the country- 
pretty well now, but he freely confesses that if 
we had been stoveless and big-tentless (as we were 
not long before he came), he might have gone 
back to Pennsylvania without giving the place 
a fair trial. . . . We have had to make a new 
sheep-pen on the side of the hill since the rain 
commenced, as the old one was too sloshy, and 
might have given them foot rot. The new one 
must be nearly half an acre, and holds them very 
nicely, giving them plenty of room to scatter. 
At a pinch it would accommodate over 2000, 
but we don't like to crowd them. . . . We are 
going to make a house soon, I believe, but as 
for ota-housQS, such an idea has never entered 
our heads! It takes one of us all day to herd, 
another to cook and do odd jobs, and Willy 
is always busy up to his eyes, without any extra 
work of that kind. Even the division fence (which 
we found we could do without for the present) 
remains half finished, and we nearly run out of 
fire-wood occasionally. Why don't some of you 
come down and help us do work that pays ? 



san antonio fair. 151 

The Doctor to Madge. 

The Ranche, 

Oct. 26, 1881. 

Part IV Willy has bought our winter clothing, Feb. to 

r ■ ■ „ Dec. 1881 

ground ^^^^ ^ ^^ Supplied with a huge overcoat with a 

cape, which completely swallows me up, and the 

collar of which touches the rim of my hat when 

I put it up. It will be A I for herding in, during 

a Norther. Willy has one too, but it doesn't 

possess a cape. We have had one or two touches 

of north wind lately, but no Northers, so I hope 

we shall not have a very severe winter, as some 

of the prophets say. If we do though, you had 

better all of you come down here, for it will be 

far worse in Tennessee ! . . . 

The Ranche, 

Nov. 6, 1 88 1. 

As one of the " events " of our not-too-over- 
exciting life has just occurred, I think you would 
like to hear all about it. I refer to the San 
Antonio fair. I will begin at the beginning by 
saying that on Monday last Willy went down 
with a buck and ewe of the Oxford Downs, and 
five half-breed yearlings. On Wednesday morning 
I saddled the mare and rode down myself. I got 



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IS2 



GONE TO TEXAS. 



Part IV. down by 2-30 p.m., and found Willy and the j^Feb.^to^ 
^^'"'"^ sheep all right. There were very few sheep on 



ground. 



view except our own, but they were beauties. 
All of them belonged to one man, one pen of 
Merino bucks, and one of ewes. They were all 
wool, from their noses to their hoofs. Alas! one 
cannot say "to the tips of their tails." There 
were only five or six goats, but they were like- 
wise beauties. The show of pigs was even worse — 
only four ! I can't say whether they were good 
or bad, as I don't know anything about pigs. 
Chickens were more numerous, but I am no judge 
of them either. There were very few bulls, but 
a quantity of cows— from the San Antonio dairies 
I believe, so they looked rather poor. The best 
show was of horses, but there again I am no judge. 
. . . There were a great many wagons, farm im- 
plements, and produce, on view, but they didn't 
interest me much. Next day I came back, so 
that is all the adventure. 



Nov. 10, 1 881. 

Having put this away and forgotten to post 
It, I will just add that Willy and the sheep 
have arrived safe, and everything is going on as 
usual. Our next job will be the erection of a 



LODGING FOR LADIES. 1 53 

Part IV. kitchen to put the stove in, as it has occasionally Feb. to 

Gainine • mi I^ec. 1881. 

ground, ^een impossible to light fires out of doors at all. 

Willy and C are at present employed 

making a cotton quilt. I expect the cold won't 
have a chance against us this Fall, as we have 
been buying all sorts of overcoats, underclothes, 
and bedclothes, and cutting up a lot of wood. 
In any case, I hope to survive till you come ! . . . 



From the Doctor to his Father. 

The Ranche, 

Nov. 10, 1 881. 

.... Willy seems to think that Madge had 

better lodge at the S 's, and I am not sure that 

(supposing it can be arranged) he isn't right. In 
the first place, even if we could put her up in 
a room near the tents, it would be pretty difficult to 
make things as comfortable for her as they ought 
to be ; and after all it would be easy enough for her 
to come up every day on horse-back, or for us to 
go down in the evenings ; and if, when you come 
down, you should wish to arrange it differently, 
I reckon Madge could monopolise the kitchen 
till we got a new room added on. We are soon 
going to build a kitchen, and turn the big tent 



r 



154 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part IV. round SO that they will join. ... I do hope you Feb. to 

Gaining .„ n , , , , i . . ^^^- ^^^i- 

ground. Will really be able to come down this time, as 
it is over two years since you left^ and it is high 
time that we had a spice of civilization in this camp. 
Just think of "baching" for two years without 
intermission ! The wonder is that we haven't 
married !!!... When you come down, you should 
bring all the too-awfully disreputable clothing you 
can raise, and leave them for the use of the camp ; 
but I suppose that you yourself go in rather strong 
for that kind of thing, now that you live in the 
"backwoods".^ . . . 



Willy to his Grandmother in Tennessee. 

The Ranche, 

Nov. 12, i88r. 

. . . We are having glorious weather, and have 
not had a frost yet, so the grass and foliage are 
still green, and stock and sheep get lots to eat ; 
in fact, the grass is running to seed in many places 
through not being eaten down enough. We have 
had good rains lately, and I think there is every 
promise of lots of grazing during winter. Very 
few sheepmen feed an ounce to their sheep during 
winter, but as we only have a few (comparatively) 



PRIZE TAKING FOR DOWN SHEEP. 



^55 



Gaining 
ground. 



we are able to feed them a little. I gave them Feb. to 

Dec. i88i. 

some cotton-seed this morning, for the first time 
this winter, and I expect to feed them some about 
every three days ; this will keep them fat. There 
was a fair in San Antonio all last week, and I was 
down there all the week. There were classes for 
Down buck, Down ewe, and pen of five young 
ewes, results of cross between long and fine wools, 
all of which classes I entered for, and took down 
seven sheep in the wagon accordingly. There 
was no competition in either of the classes, so of 
course I took all three premiums. There were 
some very fine Merino sheep on exhibition, and 
also some very fair cattle and horses. . . . We have 
just been manufacturing a quilt, and it is the most 
gorgeous thing you ever saw. We have two more 
to make, and then we shall each have one, and 
can defy any cold we may have this winter. I 
bought,, for the one made, fourteen yards of a 
very pretty dark-coloured cotton print, and sewed 
three widths together for each side. It's seven 
feet long and six wide. We made a frame, and 
stretched one side to it ; then laid on seven pounds 
of cotton, and then put the lid, or whatever you 
call it, on, and then sewed through a piece of 
knitting cotton all over it, every four inches, each 



r 



156 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part IV. way, and then hemmed the eds^es : and it looks Feb. to 

Gainincr . ^^^- ^^^^ 

grouncL j^st as if it had come out of a shop in Bond Street, 
only rather better if anything ! We have begun to 
feed our two milch cows. We feed them each 
half a bucket-full of cotton-seed, night and morn- 
ing, so we have enough milk to supply a regiment, 
or should have if we took all the milk ; but as we 
don^t need it, we let the calves have most of it. 
Our cows that have heifer calves we let run out, 
so that the calves have all the milk ; we sometimes 
don't see them for a week or ten days, as they go 
some distance off this time of year, and only come 
up occasionally for salt. . . . 



Willy to Madge. 

The Ranclie, 

Dec. 8, 1 881. 

I suppose you have got your chicken-house, 
&c., pretty well finished now. Chickens in this 
part of the world are not so luxurious as up there, 
but then we don't get such cold weather here, nor 
is it continuous. To-day it was 80° in the shade. 
Fine Christmas weather isn't it? The sheep are 
just doing splendidly. They are herded all day, 
and brought within sight of the pen about sundown, 



A BRAVE GIRL. 1 57 

Part IV. and then left, and they gradually graze towards Feb. to 
ground^ the pen, and go in by themselves when it is dark. 
We have been so busy lately that we have only 
just begun our sheep-shed ; but I hope we shall 
have it up in lots of time before lambing in 
February. By the way, mind you don't let the 
Guvnor let that trip business fall through. I want 
you to see all our stock, &c., and have lots of 
riding down here ; so bring your riding dress, or, if 
you haven't got ane, I'll get you one down here 
when you come, as I expect lots of riding will do 
you good. We've got six horses, so we'll be able 
to make a big turn-out all together. I think it 
will be better for you to sleep up at the S 's, 



if we can arrange it so, as when we do get a few 
days cold weather our camp arrangements are 
draughty, and not altogether the place I should 

like you to be in. The S 's are within a mile 

of here, and one of us can come over every morn- 
ing and bring you down here. You're a brave 
little girl to want to come and rough it with us, 
but you don't know your brothers if you think 
they're going to let you. Try and get the Guvnor 
to come down as early in January as possible, as 
we shall have lots of time to give up to recreation 
(comparatively) in January ; but about the loth 



158 



GONE TO TEXAS. 



Part IV. of February we begin lambing, and from the 15th Feb. to 

Dec. 1881. 



Gaining 
ground. 



on we shall be at it in earnest, and shall be kept 
busy. We have bachelor feasts around here now 
and then. Sometimes the chap that bought my 
other ranche gives them, and sometimes we give 
them. The last was given by him, when we had a 
wild turkey that he had shot. He is a very good 
cook, and he cooked and stuffed that turkey in a 
way that would shame a Soyer. He shot another 
last night, and so to-morrow night we go over 
there again, and if you want to see a turkey " fly," 
you'd better be there. I hope you will have a 
jolly Christmas up there. I suppose people are 
beginning to think about preparations now. Our 
next bachelor lay-out (after to-morrow) is going to 
be spread by this ranche, on Christmas day — 
plum puddings, &c. . . . 



PART V. 



MADGE'S TRIP TO THE RANCHE. 



r 



INTRODUCTORY. 

PariV. In May, 1881, as may have been gathered from some 
of the preceding letters, my mother came to the United 
States, bringing Madge with her, and settled in East Ten- 
nessee. Chico remained at his art work in London. In 
January, 1882, business called me to the South, and I took 
Madge with me, leaving her with her brothers while I 
went to New Orleans and other places. By this time 
Lenny Windale had left the ranche for another part of 

the country, and Willy and the Dr. had C , a young 

Pennsylvanian, with them, learning the sheep business. 
The boys had engaged lodgings for Madge at a neigh- 
bouring farm-house ; but she insisted on roughing it with 
them at their camp. — W. H. 

My visit to "the boys" in Texas. 

East Tennessee, 

March, 1S82. 

We were really starting at last, to pay that long- 
promised visit to the boys; and very glad I was 
at the prospect of seeing my two brothers again. 
Willy I had not seen for over three years, and 

the Doctor for two years and a-half. I came out 

M 



V 



r 



l6z GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part V. with my grandmother last year to Hve in Ten- 
nessee, and as soon as I had recovered my strength, 
after a serious illness, which I had soon after our 
arrival, my father and I had settled when we should 
take our journey to see " our boys." We started 
on the 5th of January last, and, after staying a 
few days at different places on the route, we ar- 
rived at San Antonio at 8 p.m. on the nth. On 
the 13th we took places in a lumbering old coach^ 
with room for six passengers, which was to take 

us to B , the little town three and a half miles 

from my brother's ranche. The distance was thirty 
miles, and we took seven hours and a-half to do 
It, for there had been a good deal of rain, which 
had made the roads very heavy. The next day 
Willy (my eldest brother) came over to town in 
his wagon to take us and our luggage to the 
ranche. It was drizzling nearly all the way, and 
we were rather damp when we alighted just out- 
side a rock fence with a small gate in it, and 
found ourselves at the long-wished-for goal. The 
" house " consisted of a good-sized tent, and a little 
board kitchen, which was to be my bedroom 
during my stay. This kitchen was just large 
enough to hold a small cot bedstead, the stove, a 
chair, some shelves, and two rough boards that 



Madge's experiences. 163 

PartV. answered as a kitchen table, and also as dressing 
table for me. It was very roughly built of boards, 
which had shrunk from exposure to the weather, 
leaving about half an inch of space between each 
board. The roof was by no means weather-tight, 
of which I was uncomfortably reminded sometimes, 
by waking up to find a steady cold drip coming 
into my ear or down my neck. During the day 
the cot had to be folded up and carried into the 
tent, to make room for the cooking arrangements. 
My wardrobe was a small rough wooden box with- 
out a lid, and, as it stood just underneath the 
kitchen " table," it used often to be the receptacle 
of the greasy drops which found their way^ from 
time to time, between the two boards which com- 
posed that article of furniture. The " family " 
consisted of five members ; my father, my two 

brothers, and myself, and Mr. C , a young man 

who had been staying there about six months, 
working for his board. The first sound I heard 
every morning was a shout from the tent of " Oh 
Madge ! " which, if I did not immediately answer, 
was repeated until I was wide awake enough to 
reply. I then lit a lamp (for it was generally 
before sunrise, or "sun-up" as it is called there), 
and hustled on my clothes, and called out that I 

M 2 



r 



164 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part V. was ready. Then the business of the day would 
begin. The cot was stowed away in the tent, and 
the fire lit, and then breakfast had to be got 
ready. On my first morning Willy initiated me 
into the mysteries of making " slapjacks." These 
flabby, indigestible things are made of flour and 
water made into a batter, and fried on skillets in 
bacon grease. They are pretty good when hot, 
but after they get cold it requires a good deal of 
courage to bury one's teeth in them. We had our 
meals on a small table in the tent, and as there 
was no table-cloth, we used to bring the pots and 
pans straight from the fire, and stand them on the 
table wherever a corner could be found. I forgot 
to say that there was no floor to either kitchen or 
tent, but only the bare ground, and one morning, 
after a particularly heavy rain, I stepped into half- 
an-inch of mud on getting out of bed. Directly 
after breakfast, my younger brother, the Doctor, 

or Mr. C , whosever turn it was, started off 

with the sheep; and was not seen again till tea- 
time, at sundown. They never took any dinner 
with them, as they said it was more trouble to 
carry it than it was worth, as they have to walk 
all day during the winter. In summer the sheep 
lie down during the heat of the day, and the 



A NORTHER. 1 65 

Pakt V. shepherd has time to go home and get his dinner. 
The country in that part of Texas is hilly, 
and the grass is green all winter. The principal 
trees being live oaks, which are evergreen, takes 
away the desolate look in winter, and makes it 
almost appear like summer. Three days after our 
arrival at the ranche, we had our first experience 
of a Texas " Norther." It had been comfortably 
warm all day, but looked threatening. We were 
hard at work making a quilt, of which there were 
already three, when suddenly Willy appeared 
at the door, and exclaiming " Here it comes ! " 
slammed the door to after him. The next minute 
a gale of wind began, which seemed to shrivel us up, 
and make us tuck our feet under us, as we hurried 
on with the quilt. It rained at the same time, and 
during the night the rain froze as it fell on the 
tent, and made it as hard as a board before morn- 
ing. We went to bed early, after trying in vain 
to get warm over the tiny cooking-stove, and after 
pinching my feet for some minutes, and putting 
every available article of clothing on my bed, I 
fell askep. There were only three cots in the 
tent, and, as there were four people to sleep in 
them, my two brothers slept together in one, and 
I think they had the best of it that night. The 



r 



l66 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part V. next morning there was not much washing done, I 
am afraid, for the wind and rain still continued, 
and all we could do was to try to keep warm. 
The poor shepherd had to trudge out as usual, 
after being laden with all the great coats he could 
carry. 

I used sometimes to ride with one or other of 
my brothers when they went to hunt up the 
horses or cattle on the hills. The day after we 
arrived Willy and I rode out on two of the 
work horses, to see if we could find a little sorrel 
mare belonging to the Doctor, who with her colt 
had been running out on the hills for some months. 
We soon found her, and I dismounted whilst 
Willy took off my saddle and put it on Polly, 
the mare. I then mounted again, and we con- 
tinued our ride, the colt following. As soon as 
I wanted to go a little faster than a walk, Polly 
set off at a tearing gallop and kept on just as 
long as she chose, for I had not the slightest 
control over her. Willy enjoyed the way we 
were racing across country, and shouted every 
now and then at Polly to make her go faster. 
I was not much of a rider, having had very little 
practice, but by a miracle I kept on, though I 
had several narrow escapes as Polly swerved round 



A NEW FLOCK. 1 67 

partV. corners at a gallop. When I next rode her, I 
made Willy put on a strong curb, and with 
that I could just manage to stop her when I 
wished. 

Towards the end of our stay at the ranche, 
Willy went away for a few days to buy some 
more sheep, and came back with a nice flock of 
207 very fine Merino ewes and bucks which he 
had bought about 30 miles off. The next day 
he, and father, and I, were hard at work cata- 
loguing, ear-labelling, and branding them. The 
ear-labels are small slips of metal, one of which 
is slipped through a hole made in the ear of 
each sheep, and then the ends pinched together 
to prevent them coming out. Each label had 
my brother's name and a number on it ; and as 
he labelled each sheep, I wrote down on a piece 
of paper the number, age, and quality of wool 
of the sheep, and any other particular characteristic, 
as he told me them. As each sheep was being 
labelled my father branded them with an iron 
made on purpose, and dipped in tar. Before be- 
ginning to label the sheep, we had driven them 
into a good-sized pen, and sprinkled sulphur on 
them ; and then we drove them into a very small 
pen, where there was just room for them to stand, 



r 



l68 GONE TO TEXAS, 

Part V. SO that they could be easily taken hold of. We 
finished them at about 3 p.m., after working since 
breakfast ; and then the Doctor came home with 
the other sheep and had his dinner, as he was 
to take the new sheep out in the afternoon. 
When Willy and father and I went in to our 
dinner, we found that all the food in the house 
consisted of a scrap of bacon, a small piece of 
bread, and some cold slapjacks and porridge. 
There was no fire, so we ate what there was, 
and washed it down with cold coffee ; and I don't 
think I ever enjoyed a meal more. We never 
allowed ourselves more than one plate each at 
a meal, to save washing up, so I always con- 
sidered carefully, before beginning to eat, which 
thing to eat first, so as not to spoil the taste of 
those which came after. My brothers had been 
so long used to this sort of thing, that they 
generally put everything in together, and made 
what I considered the most disgusting mixtures, 
such as — porridge, milk, slapjacks, molasses, and 

bacon, all at once. 

They had to fetch all their water, except rain- 
water, from a creek some distance off; and they 
generally took a large barrel in the wagon, and 
filled it at the stream, and then brought it to the 



DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 169 

Part V. camp and set it on a stand, and we drew out the 
water as it was wanted. The barrel-full lasted 
us about a week ; and once, when we were all 
very busy, the water gave out, and we had to 
use nothing but rain-water for everything, cooking 
included, for several days. 

Whenever the weather was warm enough, my 
brothers bathed in one of the streams ; in summer 
they wash their clothes at the same time ; they 
have nothing but shirts and socks to wash, as 
sheets, pillow-cases, table-cloths, and such-like 
luxuries, they do not indulge in. Their beds 
consist of sheep-skins, blankets^, and home-made 
quilts. They had made me a mattress, and stuffed 
it with hay from the stack in the yard, and they 
had also made me a pillow filled with wool ; and 
Willy had purchased a curtain, piece of carpet, 
and two cane chairs, besides the necessary bed- 
clothes. There were no chairs before we came, 
and the boys sat on boxes set up on end, which 
were always tipping over with them, or coming 
to pieces. Willy had intended to build me a 
small room before our arrival, as I had insisted 
on living in camp, but, the roads being so bad, 
he could not get anyone to haul the lumber from 
San Antonio. It did arrive, however, about two 



170 GONE TO TEXAS. 

partV. days before we left. Willy had begun the room 
with a few boards which were already there, and 
had finished one end of it, and put a window in 
it before we left, but unfortunately he had no 
time for more. 

The room was finished after we had left, and 
is now known as " Madge's room." Our whole 
visjt only lasted about five weeks, but it showed 
me what "roughing it" means; and I was very 
sorry indeed to have to leave the ranche. 
. '^^. Madge. 



PART VI. 

WILLY'S, THE DOCTOR'S, AND 
CHICO'S LETTERS. 



INTRODUCTORY. 

Part VI. A FEW days after Madge and I had returned to Ten- April^i882, 
nessee from the South, and before I left for New York, juiy, 1883. 
Chico turned up at my mother's house, having come 
straight through from London. While he was out in 1879 
he had made up his mind that ranche work with Willy 
would suit him better than art work in London, but had 
returned to the latter, to give it a fair trial. When, how- 
ever, he had found, in June, 1880, that the Doctor had 
decided on sticking to the ranche, his wish to be there 
also was strengthened, and confirmed by his experience 
in London lodgings, after his grandmother and Madge left 
for America, in May, 1881. He declined therefore to give 
art a trial in New York, stayed a week or so with us in 
Tennessee, and then went on to the ranche. He went 
vid Memphis. The Mississippi was in full flood at the 
time, and, in going down it and up the St, Francis to a 
point at w^iich to strike the railway, he was out of sight 
of land for three days ! On his arrival, it was agreed that 
he should give the ranche, and the ranche should give 
him, a year's trial, before he should conclude to give up 
art as his profession. At the end of his year he had no 
wish to return to art, and, the Doctor having come of age 
in March 1883, they were both taken into partnership by 
Willy.— W. H. 



174 gone to texas. 

From Chico to Madge. 

The Ranche, 

April 18S2. 

Part VI. ... We began shearing the beginning of last April, 1882, 

to 

week, and it lasted three and a half days. There July, 1883. 
were seven men at it. I was cooking for the 
crowd, which proved rather warm work, especially 
as we ran out of water the second day, and I 
had to haul it up from the creek in buckets. 
We killed a sheep and fed on the fat of the land. 
I found it rather difficult to keep ten men in bread, 
and was baking all one day from sunrise till a quarter 
past twelve at night. We w^ere generally up till 
about half past eleven^ so you see we had a cheer- 
ful time. We began the day by driving up a lot 
of sheep from the pasture, where the whole flock 
was, and penning them under the shed, in front 
of which was the shearing table, about two feet 
high, for the shearers to rest the sheep on. By 
the time this was done I had breakfast ready, after 
which the shearing began. Willy tied up the 
fleeces as they were cut, and Doctor stamped them 
into the sacks, which were hung up to the rafters 
of the shed. Each man was given a card-board 
check after he had finished a sheep, and these 



TEXAS SHEARERS. 175 

Part VI. were counted at the end of the day, as the men April, 1882, 

to 

are paid by the number of sheep they sheao and J^b'. 1883. 
not by the day. About mid-day we had dinner, 
after which Willy, the Doctor, and I, had another 
round up in the pasture, while the men rested a 
bit, and then shearing again till dusk. Then supper 
was ready, and after that we sat and confabbed 
a bit, and at about half past nine or so we took 
the tables out of " your room," for the men to 
turn in on the floor. The room is finished all 
but the end next the kitchen, which is not boarded 
up yet. We had meals in it, and the men slept 
in it, which was a pretty tight fit I can tell you. 
Seven rather large men, one of them pretty fat, 
had to lie in a row on the floor. The end man 
overhung the edge of the flooring, and rocked 
himself to sleep ! However, the room was quite 
large enough for feeding purposes, with the two 
tables. One of the shearers was very talkative, 
and rather monopolised the conversation. He 
talked and smoked all day while he was shear- 
ing, and all the meal-times, and as I heard some 
one perpetually talking, and groaning, and snorting 
in his sleep, I put that down to him too. All 
the men left before dinner last Thursday, and 
probably went straight off to another ranche 



176 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. where shearing was going to begin. . . . The April, 1882, 

to 

fleas are an awful plague here ; at least they July, 1883. 
devour 7ne, though they hardly touch the other 
two. They run up from the floor up my legs 
by scores, whenever I'm in the tent. I remember 
one night they wouldn^'t let me go to bed. I 
had taken off all my clothes and was going to 
the head of my bed to get my night shirt, when 
I felt two of them bounding up my legs ; so I 
had to go back to the lamp on the table to crack 
them : then went for the night-shirt again with 
the same result. This joke was repeated five 
times that night, but I oddsed it at last by climb- 
ing up on to the table to kill the fleas, and then 
getting to bed over the chairs and barrels without 
touching the floor. I don't think they are quite 
so plentiful, now that we've tied Dip up in the 
corner of the sheep-shed. . . . The kitten is much 
tamer than he used to be, and will take food out 
of your hand. It's wonderful what a lot of bully- 
ing that cat will take from Dip. She could 
easily keep out of his way if she liked, now Dip 
is tied up ; but she comes up smiling, to be hauled 
about by the scruff of the neck. I don't suppose 
it hurts though. . . . There will only be one or 
two more lambs this year, I fancy. Some of those 



lambs' goings on. 177 

Part VI. which were born first are so big now, that they April. 1882, 
look nearly as big as their mothers, since shearing. July, 1883. 
You ought to see them in the evening, when it's 
beginning to get cool. They get frisky, and go 
tearing about in bunches of about fifty, down the 
road as hard as they can pelt, every now and then 
giving tremendous sidelong jumps, sending their 
hind legs into the air. Sometimes two lots will 
charge into each other at full speed, and pile up 
on to one another in the middle, quite like a 
foot-ball scrimmage. It's a wonder they don't 
break any bones. Why, the other day, Doctor 
found a lamb down that big hole among the 
bushes in front of the tent, which I suppose you 
have seen. It must be 18 ft. deep in the shal- 
lowest place. Yet this lamb had jumped down, 
and hadn't hurt himself a bit. A new-born lamb 
is a most clumsy animal, very nearly all leg, 
and the essence of stupidity. It was only yes- 
terday I saw one trying to suck a wheel-barrow ; 
and they will occasionally follow a hen about 
in preference to their mother. 



N 



178 gone to texas. 

From the Doctor to Madge. 

April 28, 1882. 

Part VI. ... The Other night, we had an exceedingly fine April, isss; 
Aurora borealis, which at first looked like the July, 1883. 
reflection of a gigantic prairie fire, but soon shot 
out in long bright rays, which stretched nearly half 
across the sky. . . . The wool is by this time safe in 
San Antonio. . . . By the way, wouldn't a letter 
look odd if one put headings to each paragraph, 
like a newspaper, such as, 

News of the Neighbourhood : 

Tea-table topics : 

Work of the week : 

Perils of pastoral life : 

Post-prandial peripatetics : 

Recent ranche records : 

Crude camp calendar: 
and Egotistical experiences. 

From Willy to his Grandmother. 

The Ranche, 

May 21, 1882. 

. . . We sheared a Httle over 3,10c lbs. of wool, 
and it sold for 26I cents per lb. in San Antonio. 



MAY FRUITS. 1 79 

Part VI. ... Isn't there a saying, that one " is never so April, 1882, 
happy as when working hard"? It's a very true July, 1883. 
one I think, for we enjoy ourselves immensely, 
although we put in just about as much work 
between daylight and dark, as we can well squeeze 
in, and by the time we've eaten supper, we feel 
that we've just done as much as it's possible to do. 
I'm afraid that suggestion of yours about some one 
to cook for us, wouldn't work. We are more in- 
dependent you see", as we are, and one of us can 
always be spared to do the cooking, which is not 
a very scientific affair, in a sheep camp. Bread 
is the hardest job ; but Chico has hit that off 
splendidly, and turns out "a first class article!" 
Dewberries are about over; but San Antonio is 
full of the lower country wild plums, a most deli- 
cious little fruit, and very soon our hill plums will 
be ripe, as also the grapes. The cherry crop will 
be short this year I think, but I expect we shall 
get lots of fruit without them. ... I gave Dip away 
as he was such a nuisance to have to look after, and 
was too fond of making playthings of lambs' ears. 



N 2 



l8o GONE TO TEXAS. 

From Willy. 



B 



June 8, 1882. 

Part vl ... We have not reached our new (rented) range Aprii,^i882, 

yet. The Doctor and young H are with the July, 1883. 

sheep, about seven miles off, and I have just run 
back to the ranche to see that the calves &c. are 
all right. We are having some downright camping 
out, going up ; a wagon and an 8 feet by 8 feet 
tent, are our houses, and we do not pen the sheep 
at ni«-ht, but let them lie down about 100 yards 
from the wagon. Sometimes they start off in the 
night, and then we have to go out and round them 
back. They bleat when they start off, which wakes 
us up. ... 

The Ranche, 

July 18, 1882. 

The Doctor and I are just back from our ^ Gua- 
daloupe exile, and very glad to get back. The 
sheep are looking first-rate, the change having 
done them a great deal of good ; and our own 
range is looking splendid. We have now lots of 
range, and so can make all our arrangements com- 
plete, for taking every care of a large flock. . . . 
We had a big rain-storm the last night that we 
1 The hired ranche was on the Guadaloupe. 



A COW EPICURE. ibl 

Part VI. had to camp out. We got a thorough soaking all April, 1882, 

to 

night, but are none the worse for it. It began to J"iy. 1883. 
rain hard just as we were turning in, and it poured 
through our blankets, and a stream ran underneath 
us. Next morning, the firewood was so wet it 
was no use waiting for a fire, so we had bread and 
water in a hurry, as the restless sheep wouldn^t stay. 
. . . We have one cow, with her first calf, that is 
very fond of chewing up blankets and things. She 
came into the pen- to-day, and chawed up an old 
shirt that was on the fence. She evidently enjoyed 
it, as she stayed around outside all the afternoon, 
after being driven away, trying to get in — to devour 
more shirts I suppose ! 



From the Doctor to Madge. 

Aug. 5, 1882. 

. . . What put it into your head that we live on 
bacon and slapjacks all the year round.? Slapjacks 
and molasses are all very well in winter, but we 
never touch them in summer. Our memt consists 
chiefly of beans, porridge, meat, bread and butter, 
eggs, bacon, tomatoes, and milk. We have lately 
varied it with fish, as Sam, the darkie herder, has 
discovered some small perch and cat-fish in our 



1 83 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. biggest water-hole. . . . We have become possessors April, 1882 

to 

of four of the finest bucks within fifty miles. They July, 1883. 
are real beauties, as you may imagine, and if one 
touches their skin, one's finger disappears up to the 
second joint. 

From Willy. 

The Ranche, 

Aug. -20, 1882. 

. . . We can now sympathise with you on the 
goat question. We have five of them, regular 
brutes. They are alv^^ays up on the rock fence, 
knocking it down. We bought them to eat out 
the underbush in the pasture. To-day I caught 
and "side-lined" them, i.e. tied the two side legs 
of each one together ; and I think this will keep 
. them from being able to jump the fence and get 
out, as they have been doing. We still have to 
keep ten or fifteen head of cattle in the pasture, 
to keep the grass from getting too rank for the 
sheep. We have a tremendous amount of work 
to get through between now and November, but 
one feels able to do lots of work when things go 
on prosperously. 



willy's upset. 183 

From the Doctor to Madge. 

Aug. 27, 1882. 

. . . We have got a large oat-bin under the shed Aprii,j882 
next the rock fence, and have 130 bushels or so July. 1883. 
in it, besides a hut full of oats in straw ; and we 
shall probably put up a great deal of cotton-seed 
as soon as the fresh crop comes in, so there will 
be no lack of feed this winter, and I expect we 
shall not have a pasture full of scarecrows, like 
those you saw when you were down here last 
Spring. . . . We have got two patches of Bermuda 
grass started, and one of them is about the size 
of a table already. 

From Chico to Madge. 

Sept. 10, 1S82. 

... A load of lumber arrived here this morning, 
and we shall be moving over the frame house 
from the lately-bought land in a few days ; so 
you can come and see us as soon as you like. 
We have made a new pen, too, for the hay-ricks, 
and the place is getting quite a farmy look about 
it. I suppose you have heard of Willy's upset 
in B the other night. He drove over a cow 



184 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. in the dark, and it got up with the buck- April, 1882, 

to 

board on its back, and tilted it right over. The July, 1883. 
buckboard is as light as a feather, and is very- 
useful to get about in. It just holds two people 
comfortably, and has plenty of spring in it, as 
the fore and hind wheels are only connected by 
the flooring of boards, without any iron bar to 
stop the springiness. 

From the Doctor. 

Sept. 13, 1882. 

. . . The Jones' house is " bein tore downd," and 
a large portion of the more fragile parts have 
already arrived. The new cow-pen is finished, 
all but one string, and we shall have rails enough 
cut for it before long. It ranges from 5 ft. 4 in. 
to 6 ft. high all round ; and we shall be able to 
rope wild stock in it, and brand. If one begins 
to rope in the present cow-pen, they break out. 

From Willy. 

Sept. 23, 1882. 

. . . The house we've just moved from the new 
range is going up rapidly, and we hope to get 



"shanties" AND "HOUSES." 1 85 

Part VI. it finished before the 1st of October; and then April, 1882, 

to 

we shall be able to get our clothes into a decent July, 1883. 
place before winter. Up till now everything has 
kicked about on the ground in the tent ; and it 
will be a tremendous relief to get into a decent 

habitation. Miss plays the piano, and sings. 

She has just got a new instrument, and plays 
my accompaniments very well, so I have a little 
music again occasionally. 



From the Doctor to Madge. 

Sept. 30, 18S2. 

... I don't know how you got into the habit 
of it, but you call everything a " shanty ^'' now. 
A tent is a tent, and a shanty is a shanty ; but 
an 'ouse is an 'ouse, and should be called so. 
You have inflicted a deep and ragged wound in 
our pride by asking whether we live in the new 
shanty yet. . . . 

From Chico to Madge. 

Oct. I, 1882. 

. . . The Doctor and I have just come up from 
our Sunday bathe. We can't get much of a swim 



l86 GONE TO TEXAS. 

PART VI. without barking our knees, but the water flows Aprii^issa. 
quickly, and it's very pleasant to He and bask July. 1883. 
in the shallow water; only take care the sun 
doesn't skin you alive! The chief drawback is 
the minnows, which come swarming round one, 
and nibbling wherever they can find a sore, 
which is excessively ill-natured of them to my mind. 
Then there are some leeches, which stick on to 
one in the most tenacious way; they will pull 
out to about a yard in length, and stick on at 
both ends. In fact, all the inhabitants of the 
water (cray-fish included) seem determined one 
shan't bathe in peace; so we lie on the rock 
bed, where the water flows quickest, and flummux 
them that way. 

I've been going about barefoot for the last 
three weeks or so, and I've serious thoughts of 
giving up boots altogether as remnants of bar- 
barism. You've no notion how comfortable it is, 
when there are no thorns about; but my feet 
are getting so hard now that even they don't 
hurt much. . . . 

We had Dick down here, for one night only. 
He had come from New York for a car-load 
of ponies, which he bought in San Antonio, I 
think, and then paid us a flying visit before going 



A TROUBLED COOK. 187 

Part VI. back. He bouofht a wonderful chair in San An- April, 1882, 

^ to 

tonio ; it is made entirely of cows' horns, except- July. 1883. 

ing the seat I hope. They are very cleverly 
fitted together, and seem to sell here as fast 
as they can be made. You'd scarcely think 
they would be comfortable, but I believe they 
are. . . . 

We have had a wonderful lot of people here 
lately. I shouldn't notice it so much if I wasn't 
cook ; one seems to be in a perpetual state of 
killing the fatted calf. There have been the 
two carpenters and the herder of course, regu- 
larly, and also the men who hauled the house 
over ; and two or three extra are sure to turn up 
when you^re pretty nearly full already. However 
it's rather pleasant to have a crowd now and 
then. I spend all my spare time now looking 
out of the windows in the new house. It gives 
the country quite a new aspect somehow, looking 
at it through a window ; and makes one feel re- 
spectable, not to say grand. I must really invest 
in a top hat now, to be in keeping with the 
ranche. . . . 



1 88 gone to texas. 
From Willy. 



The Ranche 

Oct. 8, 1882. 



Part VI. ... We g;ot our cots Into our new room last April, 1882, 

° to 

night for the first time ; and it seemed quite July, 1883. 

strange, after having slept in a tent with no floor 

for so long. The house didn't seem to suffer at 

all from being moved, very little of the wood 

having to be replaced by new stuff. There was 

a kitchen behind the house where it stood before, 

a sort of small detached room : this we are going 

to move down to the creek about half-a-mile from 

here, to serve as a shepherd's hut and room to 

put cotton-seed in for the sheep. 

From Willy to Madge. 

... I am sorry you have been having bad luck 
with your chickens this summer. I wish you were 
all down here, so that you could run our chicken 
ranche. Ours are all doing splendidly. It's no 
good perpetually selling off and buying more, 
with a view to getting strong healthy stock. The 
way to have it is this : make up your mind as to 
what breed you intend to have ; then buy roosters 



i! 



CHICKEN FIXINGS. 1 89 

Part VI. of that breed, and kill or sell all your present ones. April, if 

to 

Then, when your young chickens grow up and July, 18; 
are old enough to lay, kill or sell your roosters 
and buy others of the same breed, but if possible, 
from a different poultry-yard than that from which 
the last came, and continue this rooster renewing 
part of the business every time the chickens are 
old enough to lay, which of course won't neces- 
sitate a selling off of the roosters more than once 
a year. You ought to have a few packages of 
" Condition powders " for stock and chickens (cost 
25 cents each down here), and, once a week regu- 
larly, mix a tea-spoonfid of the powder to a pi7tt 
of corn-meal for every ten chickens^ and then put 
in water enough to make it as thick as pretty 
thick porridge, and feed to the chickens. Follow 
all the above instructions, which are not difficult, 
and you may blame me if you don't have fine 
healthy chickens all the time. Of course, I pre- 
sume you feed your chickens regularly every 
day. . . . 

From the Doctor to Madge. 

Oct. 15, 1882. 
.... We have finished changing our little 
house from the old place to the creek. It used 



190 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. to be the kitchen, but now contains a ton and April, 1882, 
a half of cotton-seed. The sheep are camped July, 1883. 
there to-night, and I am going down there 
presently^ to sleep on the cotton-seed. 

From Willy. 

The Ranche, 

Nov. 6, 1882. 

. . . We are looking forward to the Guvnor's 
visit, which we hope will occur in the order of 
things, although we don't " bank " very much 
on it. " There's always a contingency," as our 

friend H said to his son the other day, when | 

the latter was averring that a certain steer must 
be dead because they'd found its bones ! . . . I had 

a most charming parting present from in the 

shape of a corn shuck hat. They are the prettiest 
hats that are made, to my notion. Shucks are 
torn up and plaited, and then sewn up into broad- 
brimmed hats. I believe they are very easily made, ^ 
and are very becoming, especially on a lady, when 
plainly and prettily trimmed. 

Nov. 20, 1882. 

. . . The two H girls and one of the boys 

came down to supper two evenings ago. It was a 



BLIND man's buff. 19T 

Part VI. regular bachelors' spread, no table-cloth but plenty April, 1882, 

to 

of sausages and soup, and coffee and bread ; and July, 1883. 
afterwards we had some kind of romping game, and 
then blind man's buff;, in which we pretty nearly 
shook the place down, but didn't break anything. 
There was nothing to break for that matter, except 
the things on the table, which were stowed away in 
one corner, the " bhnd-man " being warned of his 
proximity to it by a chorus of " Ware, soup ! " So 
you see we've not grown so everlastingly old yet. 

From the Doctor to Madge. 

Dec. 6, 1882. 

Miss H has mixed a plum pudding for us, 

and to-night we all helped stir it, and put it on the 
fire, and I've got to keep it boihng till 2 a.m. to- 
morrow. I had a real genuine fourpenny bit, which 
we have mixed in with the pudding, but not one of 
us could raise a wedding-ring, so we had to leave 
that part of the ceremony out. I have begun herd- 
ing again, and find I am rather out of practice, but 
I shall soon get into swing again. Chico and I 
each herd four days a week, which sounds im- 
possible ; but on Wednesday he herds bucks just 
to give them a change of grass, and only herds the 



192 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. flock three days. Willy has gone to bed in the April, 1882, 

to 

cotton-seed house, and Chico has gone to see Miss July, 1883. 

H home, so I am quite alone with the pudding, 

which would be a frightful temptation if it was only 
cooked : but I don't think it would be worth open- 
ing in its present state. . . . 

Note. — I had to go South early in December, 1882, and 
went for a ten days' visit to the ranche, arriving there about 
the 8th. I was duly impressed by the Christmas pudding, 
referred to in the last letter, which I found hanging up in its 
bag in " Madge's room." While I was there I began digging 
a well close to the house, Momo assisting, which has since 
been finished, and has proved a great comfort, making it no 
longer necessary for the boys to haul water from the creek for 
the use of the house. I was much struck by the improved 
appearance of the flock, owing to the introduction of new 
thoroughbred Merino blood, and the continual culling out of 
any of the ewes which had not been considered up to the 
mark.— W. H. 



From Willy to Madge. 

Dec. 20, 18S2. 

A merry Christmas and all the rest of it. Thanks 
for the socks. They turned up loose at San An- 
tonio, the parcel having busted somehow. They 
will be very welcome and useful I expect before 
winter is over, as, when we do have bad weather, of 
course we have to be out in it, and we haven't come 



AN INVASION OF WOMANKIND. 193 

Part VI. to the extravagance of investing in anything but April, 1882, 
cotton socks as yet. The Plymouth Rocks are doing juiy/°i883. 
finely, the laying hen having begun to sit after lay- 
ing about two dozen eggs. 

The Ranche, 

Jan. 1, 1883. 

Dear Madge, 
I hope you had a jolly Christmas up there. We 
celebrated the day by putting a blast in the well, 
which resulted in blowing out what I hope will 
prove to be the last of the rock for some time. We 
are now on hard clay, which is a tremendous relief 
after the rock, although the latter was for only three 
feet or so. On Christmas afternoon, or rather at 

dinner-time, I went down to K 's and had a 

very jolly Christmas dinner with them and the 

W 's, who were staying there, preparatory to 

going away in the afternoon. In spite of my re- 
monstrances, the girls made me go out riding with 
them, and not only that, but insisted on coming up 
here to "spy out the land" or something, and 
" went through " camp as though they were bossing 
the lay-out. You should have heard the burst of 
applause when they looked into the tent and saw 
Chico with sleeves tucked up, washing up some 
plates, &c. One exclaimed "Oh how cute!" 

O 



194 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. Whether she referred to the dishes, or Chico, April, 1882, 
or the mess the tent was in, I don't know. We July, 1883. 
are now enjoying a bit of a freeze by way of 
reHeving the monotony, for this is the first really 
cold weather we've had. But it isn't disagreeable 
as it keeps dry. Any way, it makes one fully 
appreciate your socks and mittens. By the way? 
many thanks for the latter : I forgot about them 
till I turned out the Guv.'s valise, since I last 
wrote. Christmas night we had a supper^ and the 
plum pudding, which turned out to be a decided 

success. The two H girls and their brother 

came down, and we had supper first, and then we 
filled in the cracks with socks — no, songs! My 
hand is cold, so my pen has the bulge on it rather. 
I started in with the intention of writing about half 
a page, so you can credit my correspondence with 
the balance. 

Chico to Madge. 

Sunday, Jan. 14, 1883. 

My dear Madge, 

If it's not too late to thank you for the 
socks and the cuffs, and to wish you a merry 
Christmas and also a happy New Year, and many 
happy returns of your birthday, allow me to do 



HERDING IN FROST. 1 95 

PART VI. SO now. Of course I ought to have done so be- April, 1882 
fore, and would be very much ashamed of myself July, 1883 
for not doing so, were I not such a hardened 
sinner. 

I always feel pretty chirpy now on Sunday, as 
it's my first day off herding. Doctor herds from 
Sunday till Wednesday, and I from Thursday 
till Saturday ; but I get four days a week alto- 
gether, as I herd the bucks (about forty) every 
Wednesday. It's pretty hard work herding in 
such weather as we've had this last week. Last 
Sunday, Monday, and I think, Tuesday, it froze 
hard, and has been thawing and drizzling ever 
since ; but to-day it's beautiful out of doors. The 
sheep will travel and scatter so in the bad weather, 
that one has to be pounding about all day without 
a moment's rest. I remember last Monday night, 
I had an overcoat which had been damp, spread 
over my bed, and in the night it fell off; but it 
was frozen so hard that it stood up on its side 
against the bed. 

I suppose father has told you we're digging 
a well now. WeVe only gone down two or 
three feet since he went, but we've got through 
the layer of rock, which was about three 

feet thick. Old S is coming again as soon 

O 2 



196 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. as he has got his crops in, some this week I April, 1882, 

to 

think. There is still a good deal of rock-picking July. 1883. 
for him to do, as the well tapers off towards the 
bottom rather, and he^ll have to enlarge it. The 
well is nine feet deep at present, and it's nearly as 
much as one can do now to pitch the earth out 
with a spade ; we shall have to fix a windlass. It 
isn't pleasant to pitch up a spade full, and have it 
come down on you, and get inside your shirt : 
however, on most days, when there's no norther 
blowing, it's so warm that I work down the well 
with nothing but a pair of breeches on — so it 
can't. The last time I was working in the well, 
I nearly shut myself in. I had shoved the ladder 
up to the top, and then picked down about a foot, 
and couldn't reach the ladder afterwards, and , 

nobody was within call ; but I managed to get it 
down at last by jumping as high as I could, and 
hooking it with the spade. . . . 

The H 's were down here on the evening 

of Christmas, and after supper we had singing. 
I thumped the wall by way of accompaniment, 
and we had enough noise to fill the Albert 
Hall. The wall of a wooden house, which is 
double, and has a space between, makes a first- 
rate drum. Our former musician, the nigger-boy 



THAT well! 197 

PartVL Jeff, is gone. His music used to be rather Apri],j882. 
trying to the nerves. His instrument was what J^iy* 1883. 
he called a mouth organ. You blow into holes 
in the top, and it makes a noise something like 
a broken-winded concertina. . . . We have still 
got our piece of mistletoe hanging to the beams, 
but it's beginning to look bilious. I expect it's 
rather indignant at the very small amount of 
slobbering that was gone through under it. . . . 
Has Granny painted her house yet ? We've been 
talking of painting this one, but it has never been 
quite finished yet, as the carpenter has been sick. 
. . . We shall be getting lambs now in a short 
time, as I hope we're not going to have much 
more bad weather. I'm afraid we shall though, 
' as we've had no winter to speak of yet, and it was 
prophesied we were to have a very hard one, I 
believe. 

The Doctor to Madge. 

The Ranche, 

Jan. 19, 1SS3. 

. . . The well is getting deep, but not damp, 
and we are in rock again, about fifteen or more 

feet deep. Old S is reduced to blasting again, 

and to-day he put in a blast which went off ap- 



198 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. parently without the least effect, and, although April, ii 

to 

the well was filled with smoke, he could not dis- July, 18 
cover where it came from, till at last he found it 
oozing out of a crack in the side of the well, 
nearly a third of the way round. ... I am to have 
my first day on the roads to-morrow, for I have 
never been called out before, so I hope the weather 
will continue fine. 

Willy to Madge. 

The Ranche, 

Feb. 28, 1883. 

The Doctor got all the photos, and we all think 
they are great successes, except that of yourself. 
You look as though you'd just been told that a 

rival photographer had set up in R , and were 

in doubt whether to believe it or not. . . We don't 
wind up lambing till the beginning of April, but 
we're pretty far advanced I think. There are about 
eighty lambs or so. Spring has set in I think, 
though we need a few more hot days, and then 
some rain, before the grass will get as good as I 
want it. A few wild flowers are opening, and the 
twigs are threatening to. I'm dropping off to 
sleep, so good night. 



WINTER CASUALTIES. 1 99 

Willy to his Grandmother. 

The Ranche, 

April 4, 1883. 

... We are well into spring now, and every- Aprii,j882, 
thing is brightening up again. We have come July. 1883. 
through a pretty hard winter, which has burst up 
a good many sheepmen; but we came through 
about as well as the best, as we had a good shed 
and plenty of hay. An Englishman below us bought 
900 head last fall ; 700 died during the winter, 
and he sold the rest for 85 cts. per head (having- 
given $2 50 cts. for them). He came off better 
than some fellows though. One man went into 
winter with 1800 head, and expected about 1000 
lambs this spring. He only has 595 grown sheep, 
and six lambs now, and is about through with 
lambing. He had considerably overstocked his 
range. One of our neighbours lost over 300 grown 
sheep, and only saved about sixty lambs : he ex- 
pected to raise about 350. The losses in cattle 
also were heavy. I don't believe we lost more than 
one or two head ; but our stock were raised on this 
range. . . . We shear on 16th inst. I don't expect 
you'll hear much from the boys till then. 



200 gone to texas. 

Chico to his Father in New York. 

Easter Sunday (I believe), 1883. 

Dear father, 
Part VI. This being my first loose Sunday this year, April, 1882, 

to 

I've taken it into my head to be a good boy for July, 1883. 
once in a way, and actually write a letter. . . . 
Thank goodness we're about through the winter at 
last. We haven't had a norther now for some days, 
but, my gracious, we did have one or two stingers ! 
Food froze almost before we could get it down. 
This winter I experienced, for the first time, the 
unutterable bliss of getting into a frozen boot in 
the mornings. It's scrumptious. One can laugh 
at the winter now its back's turned : next year I 
hope we'll flummux it with a fireplace. 

We've had some pretty good rains lately, and 
the well must have several feet, though we haven't 
measured it lately. The night before last there 
was a thunderstorm, with rain in deluges, and the 
wind rocked the house about, so that I lay awake 
and considered which window I should make for * I 

if it tipped over. However, she's standing still. 
There are two of us with the flock all the time 
now. I have been herding for the last few weeks 
with young darkie Jeff, and Dr. is herding now | 

with Jeff's brother. At present Fm trying to ' 



GETTING STRAIGHT. 201 

Part VI. get things a bit straight about camp. The place April, 1882, 

to 

gets confoundedly messed-up during the winter. July, 1883. 
However, with the help of a spade and broom, 
I've cleared out the tent, and kitchen, and dining- 
room, and am now on the pen. We've got a lot 
of excellent muck, which would delight your heart. 
I'm making a big pile of it, and we shall spread it 
on the pasture some time. We put down some of 
the pen-clearings on a patch of ground, which we 
marked out (shortly before you came) to try the 
effect, and now there is twice as much grass there 
as there is round about. You can see the square 
patch of green quite plainly marked out. I just 
put enough stuff down to hide the ground. . . 

We haven't put up our books yet, as the carpenter 
hasn't come out to fix the shelves ; but we shall 
soon be pretty straight. Willy has ordered two 
more wardrobes like the last, so when you next 
come down, by Jove you'll have to come in a 
topper and white weskit. The old tent pretty well 
came to grief this winter. It all wore away at the 
top, and we had to tie it up with rope, but the 
fly-sheet kept the rain out pretty well. We had 
it full of sheep most of the time, when it was cold. 
One night we had some up in the house, which 
made a pleasant concert. The lambs are much 



202 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. tamer this year than they were last, as we have April, 1882, 

to 

had to feed most of them from the bottle. They're July, 1883. 

beginning to look fat now, and began to dance a 

week ago ; but before that they didn't seem to be 

enjoying life much. One has to go through a 

winter like the last, to be able to enjoy the spring 

properly. The green is coming on finely now, and 

the flowers are beginning to show up too ; but it 

strikes me everything is much later than it was 

last year. Things were looking a good deal greener 

when I arrived here, which must have been almost 

the beginning of March. Devilish little news to 

chronicle at present, as I've been doing nothing 

but run after sheep and howl, for the deuce of a 

while. I might tell you what I said to the sheep, 

but it was. not as a rule parliamentary. I tell you, 

it just knocks the stuffing out of you, herding in 

winter, as the sheep don't get much to eat, and, in ^ 

consequence, run like the deuce ; which wouldn't 

matter if they all ran the same way — but they 

don't. However, they're better now, and begin to 

lie down for a bit in the middle of the day. I 

begin to feel faint. I must drink a glass of water, 

I've been writing too many letters lately, I fear, 

and it's telling on my constitution ; can't write any 

more, or I shall collapse. 



the spring shearing. 203 

The Doctor to his Father in New York. 

Sunday, April 29, 1883. 
Part VI. It is with a delightful sense of rest that I sit April, 1882, 
. down to write to you to-day. It is, I beUeve, the juiy, 1883- 
first real day of rest I have had since the begin- 
ning of January, and feels, in consequence, more 
than usually pleasant. It is a lovely day, with 
just sufficient cloud to make it cool. ... I started a 
letter to you and also one to Granny, out herding, 
but being in pencil they both came to untimely 
ends, through getting chafed into illegibility. 
Willy and Chico have gone down to San An- 
tonio with a second load of wool, so I am quite 
alone. The clip this year is probably lighter than 
last, owing partly to a late spring, and consequent 
lack of grease ; but the wool is in greater quantity, 
as we have filled thirteen sacks, and have over half- 
a-sack of tags besides. This is more than we had 
last year, although the number of sheep shorn is 
smaller ... 

The fruit-salt arrived all right, and was a very 
seasonable gift, as Chico was beginning to be 
more than usually irritated by tick and flea 
bites, but he is all right now, and one bottle has 
nearly disappeared under our frequent attacks. 



204 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. I don't think that Texas has been visited by such April, 1882, 

to 

severe northers for many years as those we had July, 1883. 
last January and February. Old H (the Ger- 
man) says he can remember a far worse winter — 

" before the war " ! ! and Billy A , who was 

raised here, cannot remember one at all. Stock 
of all kinds suffered fearfully, though not so much 
during, as after, the norther. We ourselves came 
off remarkably well ; which was mainly owing to 
Willy's foresight in weaning the calves (an un- 
heard-of thing here), and providing unlimited feed 
for the sheep. I don't believe we lost a single 
cow, and very few sheep ; but some poor fellows, 
who had scabby sheep, and not sufficient shelter 
or feed, lost all the way from thirty to seventy-five 

per cent, of their sheep ; and Capt. and 

others, who started into winter with poor cattle, 
lost tremendous quantities of them. Everything 
that isn't dead already is now on the fair way to 
recovery, as the grass is splendid ; and if the 
winter has done nothing else, it has given the old- 
method stock-raisers a lesson that will probably 
last a considerable time. . . . 

Some one's theory concerning Texas northers is, 
that they occur on the same day, or very nearly 
so, every year ; and as I have on various occasions 



SPECULATIONS ON NORTHERS. 205 

Part VI. noticed this to be the case, I should hke very April, 1882, 

.to 

much to have additional proof, which I believe July, 1883. 
that Madge can supply, as it would be very use- 
ful to us if we could put any faith in the idea. I 
wish you would ask her to look into her diaries 
and old letters, and tell me the dates of — 

i. The ice-norther which occurred during your 
stay here, in January, February, 1882. 

ii. The March norther, 1882, in which Willy 
and I were reduced to sardines. 

iii. The November (?) 1880 norther, when the 
icicles hung from the sheep's ears, and we had a 
Mexican herder. 

iv. The norther which occurred during Willy's 
stay in Tennessee, January 7, 1881. 

V. The one which occurred during Dick's stay 
with us, in March, 1880, about the middle of the 
month, I fancy. Dave was also at the ranche, 
breaking horses. 

If Madge could give me the dates of the above- 
mentioned northers, it would, with those I already 
know, satisfy me that the theory is or is not to be 
relied on. . . . 



206 gone to texas. 

Willy to his Grandmother. 

The Ranche, 

May I, 1883. 

Part VI. I believe the last time I wrote was before shear- April, 1882, 

to 

ing. We have now finished that business, and the July, 1883. 
wool is all in San Antonio, except four bags, which 
I expect to take down in a few days. We had 
very fine weather during shearing, only a little 
windy. We began with two hands, then a third 
came, so, as this was slow going, I sent to 

B and got four more (Mexicans) out. That 

made seven shearers, so with ourselves and a 
herder we were a big crowd here for a few days. 
Our Plymouth Rock hen is raising her second lot 
of chickens ; she has nine, and they are doing well. 
We had a late frost, which killed nearly all the 
plums on our only large plum-tree ; but there will 
be a tremendous crop of fruit this year, I expect. 
The mulberries and dewberries are nearly ripe, and 
there will, I think, be lots of wild cherries, and I 
believe the peach-crop is all right. We have got 
several young calves, but I really don't know how 
many, as I've been so busy with other things that 
I have " lost the run " of them. 

The people in B have just begun some im- 



POLO IN TEXAS. 207 

Part VI. provements there, by mending the road, which April, 1882, 

to 

hitherto in rainy weather has been a sort of July, 1883. 
mud pond. The citizens subscribed $500 or 
$600 I beHeve, and the last time I was in there, 
they were ploughing the sides of the streets from 
end to end, preparatory to ditching, I suppose. 

Our neighbour S and his family have moved 

down to his father's, on the other side of B , 

so the old place I first settled on is now 
unoccupied, and -again for sale. I brought up 
some Bermuda grass from San Antonio yesterday, 
and planted it after a very heavy shower, which 
came just after I got back, so I hope the grass will 
grow. The well still continues to be as full as 
ever, so the water-question does not trouble us as 
it used to, and the water in the well is very good. 

The Doctor to Madge. 

Sunday, May 27, 1883. 

. . . Chico and I went to see the polo-playing 
on the 13th. It was rather pretty, though I should 
think they have a great deal of room for improve- 
ment, as there is hardly one of them who can 
carry the ball with him for more than two strokes 
without missing it, even when there is no one else 



2o8 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. in the way. We have been having rather a drought April, 1882, 

to 

lately, but a timely thunderstorm on Friday made July, 1883. 
everything fresh again. 

I think I have already told you that I camp 
with the herder, on the other side of the creek, 
during the greater part of the time. As we 
have no stove, we cook all our food on the 
ground. I soon found out that it did not pay 
to leave things on the fire all night, as some- 
thing used to come and eat them ; but it was only 
a few days ago that I discovered the thief. It 
was a 'possum, and at last got so bold that it used . 
to come out of the brush, and stand on the other 
side of the fire while we were having supper. So 
I tried to poison it by leaving little bits of 
poisoned bread and bacon for it, next the fire; 
but, though the stuff had always disappeared by 
morning, he was always around in the evening as 
well as ever, and I had to change my plans and lie 
in wait for him with the axe, and jump up and hit 
at him when he came close enough. But he was 
too quick for me, so, as a last resource, I went for 
the shot-gun, which I did'nt much like using, as it 
was sure to frighten the sheep. But even then I 
missed him, as it was too dark to aim properly, 
and I had to fire a bit of paper on the sight the 



ROAD-MAKING. 2,og 

Part VI. next time, before firing. He is dead now, for I April, 1882, 

to 

nearly smashed his head to pieces with the second July, 1883. 
cartridge, and we shall be able to cook our beans 
at night without any fear of having the lid pulled 
off and half of them stolen. 

The sheep are doing excellently, and so are 
the cattle, and several of the nannie-goats are 
going to have kids very soon. There are only 
two of the last batch of kids left now, as we 
killed all the males to eat. ... I have been en- 
gaged lately in making a road between the 
mineral spring and the creek, so as to connect the 
two camps, as it is awkward having to go right 

round by K 's ; but the earth was so dry, and 

the rain so sudden and hard, that a great deal of it 
was washed away before it had time to get sodden. 
The way it is made is, to cut away part of the 
bank, and build a little rock wall up on the lower 
side of the road, and fill up the gap with the loose 
earth and rocks, taken out from the upper part of 
the bank. Of course it is only a small portion of 
the road that needs making in that way, or the job 
would hardly be worth doing. . . . 



^10 GONE TO TEXAS. 



Willy to Madge. 



The Ranche, 

June 3, 1883. 

Part VI. Many thanks for your letter. Of course I get April 1882, | 
all the news from your letters to the Dr. ; so J^^y- ^283. 
it's just as well to write to him, as I know you feel 
like unburthening photographic lore when you 
write, and I'm not sufficiently initiated in the busi- 
ness to understand anything about it. I hope the 
photography progresses favorably. The next time 
you are here you must bring the machine down, 
and " take off" the ranche. ... I had a letter from 

C the other day. They had a pretty tough 

time of it through winter, lost 600 head from 
death and straying off, and lost a good deal of wool 
from the scab, which was pretty bad in their flock, 
and had to pay $150 damages for letting some 
scabby sheep get on a man's clean range, &c. 

C says he expects to buy a ranche that 

he knows of, and thinks his brother is going to 
join him. I hope he will have better luck in 
future. ... 



herding in drought. 211 

The Doctor to his Grandmother. 

The Ranche, 

June 17, 1883. 

We are havingr very hot weather now, and April, 1882, 
^ -^ to 

rather a drought, but not enough to hurt the July, 1883. 
stock, although people say there will be very little 
corn raised in this part of the country. All the 
little springs and creeks are dry, and we have to 
water the sheep at the cotton-seed house, although 
they are at present penned at " the chimney " 
(where our house used to be before we moved it), 
and, as we do not like to take them over the same 
grass more than we can help, we only water them 
every two days, but they are doing very well all 
the same. They lie down a very long time during 
the day now, and have to be turned out very early 
and kept out very late, in order to get sufficient 
time to feed in ; so I go out at sundown and take 
the flock from the herder, and keep them out for a 
couple of hours or so, while the herder has supper 
(I take mine beforehand), and take a nap during 
the day, to make up for it. . . . Willy has just 
returned from San Antonio with the book-case, 
which looks large enough to hold all our books, 

and has a large cupboard underneath as well, for 

P 2 



213 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. newspapers, and so on. Now at last we shall be April, 1882 

to 

able to unpack our books and put them where they July, 1883. 
can be got at. Willy has traded some muttons 
for an old wagon, which is to be made into a 
permanent sheep-camp, that is to say, it will be 
fitted up instead of a tent, and have all the bed- 
clothes, salt, &c., in it, and will be moved when- 
ever the flock is. This will be very handy, as it is 
not always convenient to use our other wagon, 
and it takes a lot of time and trouble to move the 
things on a horse. I am afraid you will find this 
letter very full of sheep, but I am with them 
nearly all the time, and so it comes more natural 
to write about them than anything else. ... I am 
writing fearfully badly to-day, and, if it isn't the 
heat, it must be the want of practice, which is a 
judgment on me for not writing oftener. . . . 

From Willy to his Father. . j 

The Ranche, 

June 20, 1883. 

. . . Stock of all kinds doing finely. So much 
biz. on hand to think about, that I shan't give you 
any news now ; in fact, I don't think there is any. 
Shall be glad to see Dick. He will make himself 



PROLIFIC GOATS. 213 

Part VI. at home here, and very likely see C , who April, 1882, 

to 

expects to go through, en route for San Antonio, July, 1883. 
about 1st proximo. He had heavy losses last 
winter, but says he is " rich In experience," and 
means to stick to it. . . . Those five goats are kid- 
ding again. Four of them had six kids between 
them last week. . . . 

The Doctor to his Grandmother. 

July 15, 1883. 

. . . Dick has been staying with us lately, and 
has improved a good deal ; he was badly in need 

of rest when he arrived. C turned up almost 

the same day, and stayed with us some time also, 
before going on to San Antonio. He passed here 
again on his way up country, with his younger 
brother, but I did not see him, as I was out all 

day. Dick and C went on a fishing excursion 

while they were here, and, as they were fishing 
with a net, they had to leave their clothes on the 
bank ; and the cattle came up and chewed them, 

and one of the cows almost destroyed C 's 

watch, by chewing at it till the covers were flat 
and the glass broken. However, I believe the 
works remained uninjured. Dick has arranged a 



214 GONE TO TEXAS. 
Part VI. partnership with G , and will soon start on a April, 1882, 

to 

prospecting tour through New Mexico, where he ]^^y. 1883. 
expects to buy land and raise cattle. 

Our cotton-seed house was getting almost un- 
inhabitable^ from the quantity of hornets which 
infested it, and built their nests on the roof. They 
used to drop on the blankets in a semi-torpid 
state, and sting as soon as they were touched, 
so I cleaned all the nests off with the crook the 
other day, and then fled till the excitement was 
over, and now I believe they have deserted the 
place. 

The flock is looking extremely well, and will 
not feed much after sun-down, although the moon 
is half full, so it shows they get plenty to eat. 
I went to get up Molly the other day (the bay 
mare that was here when we first came out), 
and had no end of a run before I could catch 
her. She is a very clever animal, and tried hard 
to throw me off her trail by dodging round 
the clumps of brush ; but I managed some- 
how or other to come round one side just as she 
was disappearing round another, and never lost 
sight of her till she gave in, and allowed herself 
to be caught. She has got a black mule colt this 
year, which is a very absurd-looking creature, with 



THE SECOND GENERATION — TEXAS. 2l5 

Part VI. ears like a thoroughbred jackass, and tremendous April. 1882, 
joints J^^y- ^^°3- 

Willy to his Grandmother. 

The Ranche, 

July 16, 18S3. 

. . . We only settled in here just in time to secure 
a decent ranche. Now, buying land is a far dif- 
ferent thing round here to what it was three years 
ago, and respectable locations don't go begging 
long for a solid business-meaning tenant and 
purchaser. Up to quite recently the owners and 
purchasers of real estate round here consisted of 
the old original settlers (mostly Germans), and 
incoming immigrants and their families. Now, 
the generation that was born round here, of the 
first settlers, is growing up, and marrying and 
settling down ; and a very industrious and pros- 
perous generation it is too. Having been brought 
up sometimes within a few miles of where they 
have now settled down, the young farmers go to 
work in the way which they have learnt is the 
most practical and best, right from the start; 
the result of which will be that the annual ad- 
vancement and prosperity in these parts will be, 
during the next ten years, three times as great 



2l6 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. as it has been during the last ten. I am moralising April, 1882, 



to 



to an extent that I don't often give way to, but it July, 1883. 
will shew you that we have a contented and hopeful 
view of the future. 

About Bermuda grass : the first root generally 
mats before sending out shoots to any extent, and 
then, after a good rain, when the matted starting- 
place is well rooted, it will send out shoots from 
three or four sides ; the joints when matured root- 
ing in their turn, down into the ground. Perhaps 
this will be sufficient for you to be able to satisfy 
yourself as to whether your Bermuda has started 
or not. Certainly the roots I sent were Bermuda ; 
but if they did not start, I will send some more 



Chico to his Grandmother. 

Sunday, July 22, 1883. 

. . . We've been quite lively here lately with 
visitors. Dick has been staying at the ranche 
since he came from New York, except when he 

has been in San Antonio; and C was here 

too about a week. He came down from his 
ranche, which is about 125 miles off, principally, 
I fancy, to go to the B ball on the 4th of 



DICK PROSPECTING. 21 7 

Part VI July, and was very nearly prevented from going April, 1882. 

to 

by the rain. However, he rode in enveloped in J"iy. 1883. 
a macintosh of Dick's, and got there at last, after 
having been brought back to camp once by the 
horse just as he thought he was at his destination ; 
it was so dark he couldn't see his horse's head, 
and the horse didn't see the force of a three-mile 
ride in a deluge. The 4th and 5th were both 
miserable days in this country. We had had a 
drought for some time previously, and when the 
rain did come it came in buckets. It disappointed 
a lot of pleasure-seekers, no doubt, but it did a 
wonderful lot of good to the country. Our well 
was just running dry, we got a quart of gravel 
up with each bucket ; but now we have about 
three feet of water. . . . 

Dick started off two or three days ago for New 

Mexico with the two G 's, looking for a good 

place to run cattle. They were going all the way 
in an ambulance, and will have a very jolly trip if 
they have fine weather. Dick brought three dogs 
down from New York with him, a Scotch deer- 
hound and a couple of fox-terriers, one of which 
went mad and ran off as he was walking down from 
San Antonio here, when he first arrived — the sun 
was too much for it, I suppose. The hound he has 



21 8 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. taken with him on the trip, and the little fox- April, 1882, 

to 

terrier bitch he has left here till he comes back. July, 1883. 
It's rather stupid at present, it will sit and look 
at rabbits ; however, it^s young, and will know 
better in time. Dick has grown awfully "high- 
toned"" since he's been in New York, shaves every 
week, and so on! He started on the trip fully 

equipped. I hope the G ''s didn't each take 

as much, or I pity the horses. He had a couple 
of rifles (one of which fired explosive bullets), a 
full-sized shot gun, a gigantic six-shooter, about 
a million rounds of ammunition, a handkerchief, 
and a pair of socks. 

The B polo club returned last week from 

their trip to Austin and San Antonio, luckily 
only a dollar or two out of pocket ; they had 
terribly bad luck. They were to play two or 
three days in Austin, and expended hundreds 
of dollars in getting the ground (which was full 
of weeds) into order, and then it rained inces- 
santly, so that I believe they only had one 
day's play there ; and at San Antonio they had 
the same kind of luck. The 4th and 5th, as 
I mentioned before, were flooded, and of course 
they would have been their best days had they 
been fine, as everybody would have been out 



THE POLO CLUB. 219 

PartVL sidit-seeing:. They are making arrangements to April, 188: 
play at the State fairs of Omaha, and some other July, 1883 
capitals up North, in September and October, 
out of which they'll probably make a good 
thing. We've been having such hot weather lately 
that we always sleep on the gallery. Last night 
it was full moon, and I read in bed for some 
time by moonlight, it was so bright. . . . Fm so 
glad to hear your 4th July celebration was a 
success. Madge says you rode the mare up town : 
we shall hear of your breaking in the colt next. 
What swells you must be now the floor's var- 
nished ; I hope you've put an adequate shoe-scraper 
outside. We haven't stained our floor all over 
yet ; but there are some good-sized blotches. . . . 
We have an Englishman herding for us now, so 
we get plenty of time for jobs about camp. I 
have been painting all the wagon wheels lately, 
and the buckboard I painted all over, as the sun 
plays the dickens with them as soon as the paint 
wears off. I began writing just now sitting in 
a chair like a Christian, but I've gradually sub- 
sided on to the floor—- such is the heat. . . . 



220 gone to texas. 

The Doctor to his Grandmother. 

July 22, 1883. 

Part VI. ... Whenever I sleep on the ground now I use April, 1882, 

to 

Chico's Spanish rug instead of a blanket, as it July, 1883. 
doesn't pick up any dirt ; but, as it is striped with 
all colours of the rainbow, it makes me look like 
a Mexican. I believe we shall have another calf 
before long, from one of our best milch-cows. 
We have had more calves this year than ever 
before, and more than half of them are heifers, 
which of course are more valuable than bulls. 
Several of the calves, whose mothers do not run 
near here^ are not yet marked, and I am going 
to get them up as soon as possible, and mark 
them, as it is not safe to run stock out here with 
neither mark nor brand. I suppose that both 
those barbarous customs are pretty nearly ob- 
solete in Tennessee, where there are few cattle. 
The only animals here that are left unmarked are 
horses, as it disfigures them so ; but several people 
mark their mares (my mare is marked) in the less 
settled counties. . . . 



enlarged views— and pens. 221 
The Doctor to Madge. 

July 29, 1883. 
Part vl ... Everything is doing well here, and the crops April, ^882. 
are going to turn out pretty fairly after all; but July, 1883. 
we are needing some more rain, as we have had 
none since the 4th of the month. Polly cracked 
a piece out of her hoof the other day, so we 
turned her out of the pasture to give her a rest ; 
but she has been so long inside the fence now, 
that she wouldn't go away, and just hung round 
the gate till we let her in again. I ride the colt 
now whenever I need a horse, but he is not fast 
enough, nor strong enough yet, to hunt cattle 
with. I have just begun to quarry rocks for the 
back of the new shed. We intend to build a 
large sheep-shed down on the creek, where the 
present sheep camp is, and shall make the back 
out of rocks ; but I am not quite sure yet what 
kind of roof it is to have. It will be a great deal 
handier to have a shed down there in winter, 
because last winter, whenever there came a big 
norther, we had to take the sheep up to the 
house; and that interfered with the cattle and 
bucks and everything else. It is odd that I should 
be writing about winter with the thermometer at 



322 GONE TO TEXAS. 

Part VI. heaven-knows-where in the shade ; but we always April, 1882. 

"^ to 

begin preparing for winter now, so as not to be July, 1883. 
crowded at the last moment. Willy has told 
me that I shall probably be able to go up to 
you for a short while in September, but of course 
nothing can be certain as yet. He and I had 

a day's branding last week, near B . There 

are six head of cattle out there of ours, that do 
not come up to our pen ; so we took the rope 

and iron down to a pen near B , and branded 

them there. One of them was a large two-year- 
old heifer that was very wild, and made our 
hands sore by rushing round the pen after she 
was roped, and eventually jumped over the side ; 
but we got the brand on at last in spite of 
that. . . . 



APPENDIX. 



When the Dr. was staying in Tennessee last month, with 
his grandmother and Madge, I suggested that he should 
write me a letter summing up the pros and cons of ranche 
life in Texas for English public-school men ; and at the 
same time I wrote to Willy at the ranche, asking him 
if he had anything to add to the selections from his letters, 
which I had by his leave made. The following were the 
rephes. W. H. 

New York, Nov. 21, 1883. 



From the Doctor. 

.... Tennessee, 

Oct. 20, 18S3. 
Dear Father, 

Thanks for your letter of the 1 7th ; but why can't 

you let me alone on G. T. T. business ? I am perfectly 

willing to have all such extracts as you think fit taken 

from my letters, but I don't want to stop immigration to 

Kendall County, Texas, by stating what I believe to be 

the chances of a young fellow (without any capital) who 

settles there. You see, unskilled labour is very cheap; 

and I know very little about the profits of teaming (which 

requires only a small capital), by w'hich most of the young 

men seem to make a start in Hfe; and owing to my 



224 GONE TO TEXAS. 

entire ignorance of all money matters connected with our 
own business (except price of sheep, wool, herding, &c.), 
I should be a very bad authority even on the very subject 
which I ought to know best. I am not quite clear as to 
whether your question refers to money-making at all; 
but if not, what would you wish me to write about — climate, 
society, or what ? I don't want to be disobliging, but I don't 
want to write about that of which I know but little, or to 
send you a letter which would be of no use. And I think 
a fellow would have to be very steady and economical to 
save $ioo a year out of his wages as herder or farm hand; 

which is scarcely an encouraging prospect. K , who 

has worked pretty steadily with us for six months at I15 
a month and his grub, and been economical, had saved 
about $35 when I left. If you want a climatic, &c., letter, 
please say so, and I shall be only too happy to write one. 
You know, your question was a little indefinite, " What 
can you say about your part of Texas as a country for an 
English public-school boy to settle in, assuming, &c.?" 
Ever your affectionate but puzzled son. 

Note. — It seemed to me that this letter would answer my purpose, 
so I did not trouble my "puzzled son" for another, especially as he 
was getting only a month's holiday after four years' alm^ost continuous 
work. Here I may mention that many of the letters were illustrated 
by their writers, and thus made more interesting and intelligible to 
those to whom they were addressed : should they find a publisher, 
and a second and illustrated edition be called for, I make no doubt 
that Chico would be able to spare time from his sheep to work the 
original sketches, whether his own or those of Willy and the Dr., 
into proper shape. — W. H. 



APPENDIX. 225 

\ 

V ^ From Willy. 

\ 

Boeme, Kendall Co., Texas, 
Nov. 12, 1883. 

Dear Gov., 

I have just returned from a trip to Kendalia with 
Mr. Vogel, who, as you know, is the founder of the new 
town by that name which is growing up in the eastern 
part of this county; and as you are always interested in 
matters appertaining to Texas in general, and this county 
in particular, I will give you an account of what was to 
me an exceedingly interesting trip. 

Kendalia is about 23 miles N.E. of Boerne, on the road 
to Austin. We crossed the Guadaloupe about 15 miles 
from here, and then, after leaving the cedar brake, had a 
very pleasant drive of some miles through a very pretty 
piece of country, passing several farms, and through as 
good a stock range as can be found anywhere. One of 
our most successful sheepmen has his ranche a few miles 
east of Kendalia; and horses, cattle, and goats are all 
raised in the neighbourhood. 

We reached Kendalia about sundown, and so hadn't 
any tim^e that evening to see much, as of course the 
horses had to be attended to, and we had to look after 
getting supper in Mr. Vogel's house, which stands a short 
distance from the road on a slight elevation above the 
cotton gin and mill, and almost within a stone's throw of 
the store and post-office. 

It speaks a great deal for the intellectual attainments 

Q 



226 GONE TO TEXAS. 

of the folks in the neighbourhood that they have a de- 
bating society in full blast, with weekly meetings at the 
schoolhouse : they held a meeting the night we got there ; 
the subject, so we were told, being " The relative profits 
on sheep and cattle raising ; " but my thirst for the fray 
was so far quenched by the drive we had had, and the 
prospective walks and return drive next day, that, acting 
upon the precept that discretion is the better part of 
valour, I very ignominiously " turned in " — to bed. Next 
day we heard that the cattle stumpers had routed us poor 
sheepmen bag and baggage. Great Scott ! where were 
the sheepboys ? 

Next morning, after a good night's rest and a hearty 
breakfast, we sallied forth to " take in " the place and 
surroundings, and, running the gauntlet of a host of 
Kendalians and others, we went down to the lake, which 
is a very beautiful piece of water not far from the town. 
Mr. Vogel has stocked it with German carp, and has 
ordered two rowing-boats, which he intends to place at 
the disposal of pleasure-seekers. The water is in many 
places over 14 feet deep and beautifully clear, and I had 
the first good plunge that I have had for some years ; as 
here in Texas, water that is deep enough to plunge into, 
except so far from the edge as to render it impossible 
to take a header off the bank, is a scarcity. 

After returning to the town, I amused myself examining 
the machinery in the mill (which consists of a very fine 
engine, the power of which is utilised in running a cotton 
gin and press, grist mill and flouring mill), and strolling 



APPENDIX. • 227 

out amongst the timber, which is exceedingly fine — live 
oak, and post oak, and all the other smaller varieties of 
trees and shrubs that grow in these parts, including abund- 
ance of wild grape-vines, wild cherries, and plums, &c. ; 
and admiring the view of the distant mountains, which are 
very fine, whilst Mr. Vogel was being besieged by his miller 
and fence-builders and other men who had business with 
him, and a crowd of others the chief intent of most of 
•whom seemed to be to become the possessors of town 
lots. These, he tells me, he is at present selling at from 
^10 to I20 according to location, it being a significant 
fact that most of those tackling him for town lots were old 
settlers in the neighbourhood, which shews that those 
who have the best facilities for judging, have perfect con- 
fidence in the future success of the town. 

Mr. Vogel watches the growth of the town with an 
interest almost akin to enthusiasm, and not (as do so 
many of the inaugurators of similar projects) as a specu- 
lative venture; and he is therefore of course always ready 
to assist any individual enterprise on the part of the 
settlers which may tend towards the general advancement 
and prosperity of the town and community. By the way, 
Mr. Vogel has so many details to attend to in connection 
with Kendalia, and also the " Union Land Register," of 
which, I believe you know, he is editor, that he intends to 
sell the cotton gin and mill which he built and has been 
running himself. So if you know of any one coming to 
these parts with some capital, whom such an investment 
would suit, send him along to Mr. Vogel at Boerne. 



228 GONE TO TEXAS. 

I think it a first-rate opening for an energetic go-ahead 
man, standing as it does in the centre of a very good 
farming district, the acreage of which is being annually 
increased, and in a young town surrounded by a fine 
stock-raising country, which, coupled with the farming 
interests, ensures for it a steady growth and future suc- 
cess. Added to this I think it has a great future as a 
health resort, lying as it does at an altitude of 1400 feet 
above the sea-level, and having so many varied natural 
attractions. Mr. Vogel intends as soon as practicable to 
build an hotel there for pleasure and health seekers. 
During my trip to and from Kendalia I came across some 
very fine specimens of mesquite grass, one of which 
I had not noticed before, and which I as usual took speci- 
mens of, and have been busy planting out in the pasture 
to-day. 

All the stock is doing well, and a good rain last night 
promises to help the range immensely. 



P 



J 



